KATY  GAUMER.     Illustrated. 

GETTYSBURG.     Illustrated. 

WHEN  SARAH  WENT  TO  SCHOOL.  Illus 
trated. 

WHEN  SARAH  SAVED  THE  DAY.  Illus 
trated. 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 


KATY  GAUMER 


ti 


w 


(1).  334) 


"  IT  'S  BEAUTIFUL  UP  HERE,  IS  N'T  IT,  KATY  ?  " 


KATY  GAUMER 


BY 


ELSIE  SI NGM ASTER 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 

$re^  Cambridge 
1915 


COPYRIGHT,    IpIO,   BY  THE   CENTURY   COMPANY 
COPYRIGHT,    1915,   BY  ELSIE   SINGMASTER  LEWARS 

ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 

Published  February  1915 


CONTENTS 

I.  THE  GREAT  NEWS I 

II.  THE  BELSNICKEL 17 

III.  THE  GREAT  MAN       .      .      ....      .      .    32 

IV.  THE  KOEHLERS'  CHRISTMAS  DAY       .      .     .      .    49 
V.  ANOTHER  CHRISTMAS  DAY 63 

VI.  THE  MILLERSTOWN  SCHOOL 88 

VII.  THE  BEE  CURE 105 

VIII.  WILLIAM  KOEHLER  MAKES  HIS  ACCUSATION  FOR 

THE  LAST  TIME 124 

IX.  CHANGE .      .143 

X.  KATY  MAKES  A  PROMISE 153 

XI.  KATY  FINDS  A  NEW  AIM  IN  LIFE      .      .  <  .      .  159 
XII.  KATY  BORROWS  so  THAT  SHE  MAY  LEND  .      .      .  169 

XIII.  EMPTINESS 192 

XIV.  KATY  PLANS  HER  LIFE  ONCE  MORE  ....  204 
XV.  AN  OLD  WAY  OUT  OF  A  NEW  TROUBLE  .      .      .219 

XVI.  BEVY  PUTS  A  HEX  ON  ALVIN 235 

XVII.  ALVIN  DOES  PFNANCE  AFD  is  SHRIVEN     .      .      .  254 
XVIII.  A  SILVER  CHALICE     ....   ,.v  r  ....      .      .267 

XIX.  THE  SQUIRE  AND  DAVJD  TAKE  A  JOURNEY  BY  NIGHT  281 

XX.  THE  MYSTERY  DEEPENS 300 

XXI.  THE  SOUIRE  AND  DAVID  TAKE  A  JOURNEY  BY  DAY  .  306 
XXII.  KATY  is  TO  BE  EDUCATED  AT  LAST    .      .      .      .321 

NOTE. — The  first  two  chapters  were  published  as 
a  short  story  under  the  title  of  "  The  Belsnickel" 
in  the  Century  Magazine  for  January,  1911. 


302900 


KATY  GAUMER 

CHAPTER   I 

THE   GREAT  NEWS 

EVERY  Wednesday  evening  in  winter  Katy  Gaumer 
went  to  the  Millerstown  post-office  for  her  grand 
father's  "Welt  Bote,"  the  German  paper  which 
circulated  among  the  Pennsylvania  Germans  of 
Millerstown.  By  six  o'clock  she  and  Grandfather 
Gaumer  and  Grandmother  Gaumer  had  had  supper; 
by  half  past  six  she  had  finished  drying  the  dishes; 
by  half  past  seven  she  had  learned  her  lessons  for 
the  next  day;  and  then,  a  scarlet  shawl  wrapped 
about  her,  a  scarlet  "nubia"  on  her  head,  scarlet 
mittens  on  her  hands,  Katy  set  forth  into  Millers- 
town's  safe  darkness. 

Sometimes  —  oh,  the  thrill  that  closed  her  throat 
and  ran  up  and  down  her  spine  and  set  her  heart  to 
throbbing  and  her  eyes  to  dancing  at  sound  of  that 
closed  door!  —  sometimes  it  rained  and  she  pushed 
her  way  out  into  the  storm  as  a  viking  might  have 
pushed  his  boat  from  the  shore  into  an  unfriendly 
sea ;  sometimes  it  snowed  and  she  lifted  her  hot  face 
so  that  she  might  feel  the  light,  cold  flakes  against 
her  cheek ;  sometimes  deep  drifts  lay  already  on  the 
ground  and  she  flung  herself  upon  them  or  into  them ; 


2  KATY  GAUMER 

sometimes  she  danced  back  to  say  a  second  good 
bye  so  that  she  might  enjoy  her  freedom  once  more; 
sometimes  she  stole  round  under  the  tall  pine  trees 
and  knocked  ponderously  at  the  door,  knowing  per 
fectly  well  that  her  grandmother  and  grandfather 
would  only  smile  at  each  other  and  not  stir. 

Sometimes  she  crossed  the  yard  in  snow  to  her 
knees  to  rap  against  the  kitchen  window  of  Bevy 
Schnepp,  who  kept  house  for  Great-Uncle  Gaumer, 
the  squire.  Bevy's  real  name  was  Maria  Snyder, 
but  Katy  had  renamed  her  for  one  of  the  mythical 
characters  of  whom  Millerstown  held  foolish  dis 
course,  and  the  village  had  adopted  the  title.  Bevy 
was  little  and  thin  and  a  powerful  worker.  She  was 
cross  with  almost  every  one  in  the  world,  even  with 
Katy  whom  she  adored  and  spoiled.  There  was  a 
tradition  in  Millerstown  that  she  was  once  about 
to  be  married,  but  that  at  the  ceremony  her  spirit 
rebelled.  When  the  preacher  asked  her  whether  she 
would  obey,  she  cried  out  aloud,  "By  my  soul,  no!" 
and  the  match  was  thereupon  broken  off.  Bevy 
adorned  her  speech  with  many  proverbs,  and  she  had 
an  abiding  faith  in  pow-wowing,  and  also  in  spooks, 
hexahemeron  cats,  and  similar  mysterious  creatures. 
She  had  named  the  squire's  dog  "Whiskey"  so  that 
he  could  not  be  bewitched.  She  would  as  soon  have 
thrown  her  cabbage  plants  away  as  to  have  planted 
them  in  any  other  planetary  sign  than  that  of  the 
Virgin.  She  belonged,  strangely  enough,  to  a  newly 
established  religious  sect  in  Millerstown,  that  of  the 


KATY  GAUMER  3 

Improved  New  Mennonites,  who  had  no  relation 
to  the  long-established  worthy  followers  of  Menno 
Simons  in  other  parts  of  the  Pennsylvania  German 
section.  It  is  difficult  to  understand  how  Bevy  rec 
onciled  her  belief  in  the  orthodox  if  sensational 
preaching  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Hill  with  her  use  of 
such  superstitious  rhymes  as 

"  Dulix,  ix,  ux, 

Thou  comest  not  over  Pontio, 
Pontio  is  over  Pilato"  — 

to  which  she  had  recourse  when  trouble  threatened. 

Sometimes  Katy  untied  "  Whiskey "  and  they 
scampered  wildly,  crazily  away  together.  Katy  did 
everything  in  the  same  unthinking,  impetuous  way. 
Both  she  and  Whiskey  were  young,  both  were  irre 
sponsible,  *  both  were  petted,  indulged,  and  entirely 
care-free.  Katy  was  the  orphan  child  of  her  grand 
parents'  Benjamin;  it  was  not  strange  that  they 
could  deny  her  nothing.  Of  her  mother  and  father 
she  had  no  recollection;  to  her  grandparents  she 
owed  anything  she  might  now  be  or  might  become. 

To-night  there  was  no  snow  upon  the  ground.  The 
stars  shone  crisply;  in  the  west  the  young  moon 
was  declining ;  though  it  was  December,  the  season 
seemed  more  like  autumn  than  like  winter.  Millers- 
town  lay  still  and  lovely  under  its  leafless  trees ;  not 
in  the  quiet  of  perpetual  drowsiness,  —  Millerstown 
was  stirring  enough  by  day!  —  but  in  repose  after 
the  day's  labor  and  excitement.  To  the  east  of  the 


4  KATY  GAUMER 

village  the  mountain  rose  somberly ;  to  the  south  the 
pike  climbed  a  hill  toward  the  church  and  the  school- 
house  ;  to  the  west  and  north  lay  the  wide  fields.  To 
the  north  might  be  seen  the  dim  bulk  of  the  blast 
furnace  with  the  great  starlike  light  of  the  bleeder 
flame. 

"  I  wonder  what  it  looks  like  now  from  the  top  of 
the  mountain,"  soliloquized  Katy.  "I  would  like 
to  climb  once  in  the  dark  night  to  the  Sheep  Stable. 
I  wonder  if  it  is  any  one  in  all  Millerstown  brave 
enough  to  go  along  in  the  dark.  I  wonder  what  the 
church  looks  like  inside  without  any  light.  I  won 
der—  " 

Awed  by  the  quiet,  Katy  stood  still  under  the 
pine  trees  at  the  gate.  She  heard  Whiskey  whine  to 
be  let  loose ;  she  heard  Bevy  open  the  door  of  the 
squire's  kitchen. 

"Katy,  Katy  Gaumer!  Come  here  once,  Katy 
Gaumer!" 

Katy  did  not  answer.  Bevy  had  probably  a  cake 
for  her  or  some  molasses  candy ;  she  could  just  as  well 
put  it  in  the  putlock  hole  in  the  wall  of  grandfather's 
house.  A  putlock  hole  is  an  aperture  left  by  the  re 
moval  of  a  scaffolding.  It  is  supposed  to  be  filled  in, 
but  either  the  builder  of  the  old  stone  house  had 
overlooked  one  of  the  openings,  or  the  stone  placed 
there  had  fallen  out.  It  now  made  a  fine  hiding- 
place  for  Katy's  treasures. 

Katy  had  at  this  moment  no  time  to  give  to  Bevy. 
Her  heart  throbbed,  her  hands  clutched  the  gate. 


KATY  GAUMER  5 

She  did  not  know  why  she  was  always  so  thrilled  and 
excited  when  she  was  out  alone  at  night. 

"It  is  like  Bethlehem,"  she  whispered  to  herself, 
as  she  looked  down  the  street,  then  up  at  the  sky. 
"The  shepherds  might  be  watching  or  the  kings 
might  come." 

Katy  opened  the  gate. 

"I  love  Millerstown,"  she  declared.  "I  love  Mil- 
lerstown.  I  love  everybody  and  everything  in 
Millerstown." 

The  post-office  was  next  to  the  store  and  on  the 
same  street  as  Grandfather  Gaumer's.  There  are 
only  three  streets  in  the  village,  Main  Street  and 
Locust  and  Church,  and  all  the  houses  are  built 
out  to  the  pavement  in  the  Pennsylvania  German 
fashion,  so  that  the  little  settlement  does  not  cover 
much  ground.  Perhaps  that  was  why  Katy,  leaving 
Main  Street  and  starting  forth  on  Locust,  came  so 
soon  to  the  end  of  her  spasm  of  affection.  There  did 
not  seem  to  be  enough  of  the  village  to  warrant  any 
such  fervent  outpouring.  At  any  rate,  Katy's  mood 
changed. 

"I  am  tired  of  Millerstown,"  she  declared  with 
equal  fervor.  "It  is  dumb.  It  is  quiet.  Nothing 
ever  happens  in  this  place." 

The  residents  of  Locust  Street  were  especially 
dull  to  Katy's  thinking.  Dumb  Coonie  Schnable 
lived  here  and  dumb  Ellie  Schindler,  and  Essie  Hill, 
whom  she  hated.  Essie  was  the  daughter  of  the  pas 
tor  of  the  Improved  New  Mennonites,  of  whom  Bevy 


6  KATY  GAUMER 

Schnepp  was  one.  The  preacher  himself  was  tall  and 
angular  and  rather  blank  of  countenance,  but  Essie 
was  small  and  pretty  and  pink  and  smooth  of  speech 
and  by  no  means  "dumb."  Once,  being  a  follower 
of  her  father's  religious  practices,  Essie  had  risen  in 
school  and  had  prayed  for  forgiveness  for  Katy's 
outrageous  impudence  to  the  teacher,  and  had  there 
upon  become  his  favorite  forever.  That  Essie  could 
really  be  what  she  seemed,  that  she  could  like  to  hear 
her  father  shout  about  the  Millerstown  sinners,  that 
she  could  admire  the  silly,  short-back  sailor  hat 
adorned  with  a  Bible  verse,  which  was  the  head-cov 
ering  of  the  older  female  members  of  the  Improved 
New  Mennonite  Church  —  this  Katy  could  not, 
would  not  believe.  Essie  was  a  hypocrite. 

Sometimes  the  Improved  New  Mennonites  might 
be  heard  singing  or  praying  hysterically.  Katy  had 
often  watched  them  through  the  window,  in  com 
pany  with  Ollie  Kuhns  and  Billy  Knerr  and  one  or 
two  other  naughty  boys  and  girls,  and  had  some 
times  helped  a  little  with  the  hysterical  shrieking. 
To-night  the  little  frame  building  was  dark,  and 
here,  as  down  on  Main  Street,  there  was  not  a  sound. 

At  the  end  of  Locust  Street,  Katy  went  through 
a  lane  to  Church  Street,  and  there  again  she  stood 
perfectly  still,  her  eyes  gleaming,  her  ears  listening, 
listening,  listening.  On  the  mountain  road  above 
her,  she  could  see  dimly  a  little  white  house,  which 
seemed  to  hug  the  hillside  and  to  hold  itself  aloof 
from  Millerstown.  Here  lived  old  Koehler,  who  was 


KATY  GAUMER  7 

not  really  very  old,  but  who  was  crazy  and  who  was 
supposed  to  have  stolen  the  beautiful  silver  commun 
ion  service  of  Katy's  church.  The  children  used 
to  shout  wildly  at  him,  " Bring  it  back!  Bring  it 
back! "  and  sometimes  he  ran  after  them.  One  sign 
of  his  lunacy  was  his  constant  praying  in  all  sorts  of 
queer  places  and  at  queer  times  that  the  communion 
service  might  be  returned,  when  all  he  needed  for  the 
answering  of  his  prayer  was  to  seek  the  service  where 
he  had  hidden  it  and  to  put  it  back  in  its  place.  The 
Millerstown  children  never  carried  their  mocking 
to  his  house,  since  they  believed  that  he  was  able  to 
set  upon  them  the  swarms  of  bees  that  lived  in  hives 
in  his  little  garden,  among  which  he  went  without 
fear.  They  said  among  themselves  —  at  least  the 
romantic  girls  said  —  that  he  did  not  give  his  son, 
poor,  handsome  Alvin,  enough  to  eat. 

Suddenly  Katy's  heart  beat  with  a  new  thrill. 
There  was  no  instinct  within  her  which  was  not 
awake  or  wakening.  Her  cheeks  flushed,  her  scarlet 
mittens  clasped  each  other.  She  liked  handsome 
Alvin  because  she  liked  him  —  no  better  reason  was 
given  or  required  in  Katy's  feminine  soul. 

"I  think  Alvin  is  grand,"  exclaimed  Katy  to 
herself.  "  I  am  sorry  for  him.  I  think  he  is  grand." 

There  was  a  sound,  and  Katy  started.  Suppose 
Alvin  should  come  upon  her  suddenly !  She  went  on 
a  few  steps,  then  once  more  she  stopped  to  listen. 
Once  more  Millerstown  was  quiet,  again  she  looked 
and  listened. 


8  KATY  GAUMER 

Back  in  the  shadows  across  the  street  stood  a  large, 
fine  house,  the  home  of  John  Hartman,  Millers- 
town's  richest  man.  There  were  in  that  house  fine 
carpets  and  beautiful  furniture.  But  in  spite  of  their 
possessions  the  Hartmans  were  not  a  happy  family. 
Mrs.  Hartman  was  handsome  and  she  had  beautiful 
clothes  and  a  sealskin  coat  to  wear  to  church,  but 
she  was  disturbed  if  leaves  drifted  down  on  the  grass 
in  her  yard  or  if  the  coming  of  visitors  made  it  neces 
sary  to  let  the  sunlight  in  on  her  thick  carpets.  Her 
only  child,  David,  was  sullen  and  stupid  and  cross. 
Remembering  the  delightful  bass  singing  of  one 
Wenner  in  the  church  choir,  Katy  had  run  away  from 
home  when  a  mere  baby  to  visit  the  church  on  a 
week  day  and  from  there  John  Hartman  had  driven 
her  home.  Her  grandmother  to  whom  she  had  fled 
had  insisted  that  he  had  not  been  angry,  but  that  he 
had  only  sent  her  back  sternly  and  properly  where 
she  belonged.  But  the  impression  was  not  quite  per 
suaded  away.  Katy  used  to  pretend  in  some  of  her 
wild  races  that  she  was  fleeing  from  John  Hartman. 

Suddenly  there  was  another  sound.  Some  Millers- 
tonian  had  opened  a  window  or  had  closed  a  shutter 
and  Katy  took  to  her  heels.  It  amused  her  to  pretend 
once  more  that  she  was  running  away  from  John 
Hartman.  In  a  moment  she  had  opened  the  door 
of  the  village  store  and  had  flashed  in. 

Round  the  stove  sat  four  men,  old  and  middle- 
aged  ;  to  the  other  three,  Caleb  Stemmel  was  holding 
forth  dismally,  his  voice  low,  dreary  as  his  mind,  his 


KATY  G\UMER  9 

mind  dull  as  the  dim  room.  Upon  them  Katy  flashed 
in  her  scarlet  attire,  her  thin  legs  in  their  black 
stockings  completing  her  resemblance  to  a  very 
gorgeous  tanager  or  grosbeak.  Katy  had  recovered 
from  all  her  thrills;  she  was  now  pure  mischief  and 
impertinence. 

"Nothing,'*  complained  Caleb  Stemmel,  "nothing 
is  any  more  like  it  was  when  I  was  young." 

"No,  it  is  much  better,"  commented  the  scarlet 
tanager. 

"We  took  always  trouble."  Caleb  paid  no  heed 
to  the  impertinent  interruption.  "We  had  Christ 
mas  entertainments  that  were  entertainments  — 
speeches  and  cakes  and  apples  and  a  Belsnickel.  But 
these  children  and  these  teachers,  they  are  too  lazy 
and  too  good-for-nothing." 

Katy  had  no  love  for  her  teacher;  she,  too,  consid 
ered  him  good-for-nothing ;  but  she  had  less  love  for 
Caleb  Stemmel. 

"We  are  going  to  have  a  Christmas  entertain 
ment  that  will  flax  [beat]  any  of  yours,  Caleb  Stem 
mel,"  she  boasted. 

"Yes,  you  will  get  up  and  say  a  few  Dutch  pieces 
and  then  you  will  go  home." 

"Well,  everything  was  Dutch  when  you  were 
young.  You  ought  to  like  that !" 

"Things  should  now  be  English,"  insisted  Caleb. 
"But  you  are  too  lazy,  all  of  you,  from  the  teacher 
down.  You  will  be  pretty  much  ashamed  of  your 
selves  this  year,  that  I  can  tell  you." 


io  KATY  GAUMER 

Katy  was  already  halfway  to  the  door,  her  black 
legs  flying.  She  would  waste  no  words  on  Caleb 
Stemmel.  But  now  she  turned  and  went  back.  Katy 
was  curious. 

" Why  this  year?" 

"Because,"  teased  Caleb. 

"That  is  a  dumb  answer!  Why  because?" 

"Because  it  is  some  one  coming." 

"Who?" 

"A  visitor."   Caleb  pronounced  it  "wisitor." 

"Pooh!  What  do  I  care  for  a  'wisitor'?"  mocked 
Katy. 

"This  is  one  that  you  care  for!" 

"Who  is  it?" 

"Don't  you  wish  you  knew?" 

Katy  stamped  her  foot. 

"  If  you  don't  tell,  I  '11  throw  you  with  snow  when 
the  snow  comes,"  she  threatened.  Katy  had  respect 
for  age  in  general,  but  not  for  Caleb  Stemmel. 

Caleb  did  not  answer  until  he  saw  that  Danny 
Koser  was  about  to  tell. 

"It  is  a  governor  coming,"  he  announced  impres 
sively. 

Katy  drew  a  step  closer,  her  face  aglow.  No  eyes 
of  tanager  or  grosbeak  could  have  shone  blacker 
against  brilliant  plumage. 

"Do  you  mean"  —  faltered  Katy — "do  you 
mean  that  my  Uncle  Daniel  is  coming  home  once, 
my  Uncle  Daniel  Gaumer?" 

"The  squire  was  here  and  he  told  us."   Danny 


KATY  GAUMER  n 

Koser  was  no  longer  to  be  restrained.  "Then  he 
went  to  your  gran'pop.  He  got  a  letter,  the  squire 
did.  What  do  you  think  of  that  now?" 

"And  what,"  jeered  Caleb  Stemmel,  —  "what 
will  the  governor  think  of  Dutch  Millerstown  and 
the  Dutch  entertainment  and  Dutch  Katy ;  what — " 

Once  more  had  Katy  reached  the  door  at  the  other 
end  of  the  long  room.  She  had  a  habit  of  forecasting 
her  own  actions ;  already  she  could  see  herself  pound 
ing  at  the  teacher's  door,  then  racing  home  to  her 
grandfather's,  her  heart  throbbing,  throbbing,  her 
whole  being  in  the  glow  of  excitement  which  she 
loved,  and  of  which  she  never  had  enough. 

Suddenly  she  stopped,  her  hand  on  the  latch.  She 
had  a  secret,  the  whole  Millerstown  school  had  a 
secret,  but  now  it  must  be  told.  Every  father  and 
mother  in  Millerstown  would  have  to  know  if  the 
great  project,  really  her  great  project,  were  to  suc 
ceed.  Since  the  news  would  have  to  come  out,  it 
might  as  well  be  announced  at  once. 

"We  are  going  to  have  an  English  entertainment, 
Caleb  Stemmel,"  she  cried.  "  It  is  planned  this  long 
time  already;  we  have  been  practicing  for  a  month, 
Caleb  Stemmel.  We  will  have  you  in  it ;  we  will  have 
you  say,  'A  wery  wenimous  wiper  jumped  out  of  a 
winegar  wat ' ;  that  will  be  fine  for  you,  Caleb.  Aha! 
Caleb!" 

Outside  Katy  paused  and  stretched  forth  her 
arms.  There  was  still  not  a  soul  in  sight,  there  was 
still  not  a  sound ;  she  looked  up  the  street  and  down 


12  KATY  GAUMER 

and  could  see  the  last  house  at  each  end.  Then  Katy 
started  to  run.  Ten  minutes  ago  she  had  been  only 
little  Katy  Gaumer,  with  lessons  learned  for  the 
morrow  and  bedtime  near,  hating  the  quiet  vil 
lage,  a  good  deal  bored  with  life ;  now  she  was  Katy 
Gaumer,  the  grandniece  of  one  of  the  great  men  of 
the  world. 

"I  wonder  what  he  will  look  like,"  said  Katy. 
"I  want  to  do  something.  I  want  to  be  something. 
I  want  to  make  speeches.  I  want  to  be  rich  and 
learned.  I  want  to  do  everything.  If  he  would  only 
help  me,  I  might  be  something" 

There  was  no  one  at  hand  to  tell  her  that  she  was 
a  vain  child ;  no  one  to  remind  her  that  she  was  only 
one  of  twenty-odd  grandnieces  and  nephews  and 
that  the  governor  of  a  Western  State  was  after  all 
not  such  an  important  person,  since  there  were  many 
still  higher  offices  in  the  land.  No  Millerstonian 
would  have  so  discounted  Daniel  Gaumer,  who  had 
made  his  own  way  and  had  achieved  greater  success 
than  any  of  his  Millerstown  contemporaries.  To 
Katy  he  was  far  more  wonderful  than  the  President 
of  the  United  States.  If  she  could  do  well  at  the  en 
tertainment  —  she,  of  course,  had  the  longest  and 
most  important  piece,  and  she  had  also  drilled  the 
other  children  —  if  it  only  turned  out  well,  and  if 
some  one  only  said  to  the  governor  that  success  was 
due  to  her  efforts,  he  might  persuade  her  grandfather 
to  send  her  away  to  school ;  he  might  — 

But  this  was  not  the  time  to  dream.  With  a  fresh 


KATY  GAUMER  13 

gasp  for  breath,  Katy  ran  on  and  hurled  herself 
against  the  teacher's  door,  or  rather  against  the 
door  of  Sarah  Ann  Mohr,  in  whose  house  the  teacher 
boarded.  In  an  instant  she  was  in  the  kitchen  where 
Sarah  Ann  and  the  teacher  sat  together. 

Sarah  Ann  was  large  and  ponderous  and  good- 
natured.  She  was  now  reading  the  paper  and  hem 
ming  a  gingham  apron  by  turns.  Sarah  Ann  loved 
to  read.  Her  favorite  matter  was  the  inside  page  of 
the  Millerstown  "Star,"  which  always  offered  varied 
and  interesting  items  of  general  news.  Sarah  Ann 
was  far  less  interested  in  the  accounts  of  Millers- 
town's  births  and  deaths  and  marriages  than  she  was 
in  the  startling  events  of  the  world  outside.  Sarah 
Ann's  taste  inclined  to  the  shocking  and  morbid. 
This  evening  she  had  read  many  times  about  a  man 
who  had  committed  suicide  by  sitting  on  a  box  of 
dynamite  and  lighting  the  fuse,  and  about  a  man 
whose  head  was  gradually  becoming  like  that  of  a 
lion.  When  she  observed  that  the  next  item  dealt 
with  the  remarkable  invention  of  a  young  woman 
who  baked  glass  in  her  husband's  pies,  Sarah  Ann 
laid  down  the  paper  to  compose  her  mind  with  a 
little  sewing. 

The  teacher,  who  was  small  and  slender  and  some 
what  near-sighted,  was  going  painstakingly  over  a 
bundle  of  civil  service  examination  questions.  He 
was  only  in  Millerstown  for  a  little  while,  acting  as 
a  substitute  and  waiting  for  something  to  turn  up. 
He  was  a  Pennsylvania  German,  but  he  would  as 


i4  KATY  GAUMER 

soon  have  been  called  a  Turk.  He  had  changed  his 
name  from  Schreiner  to  Carpenter  and  the  very 
sound  of  his  native  tongue  was  hateful  to  him.  He 
did  not  like  Katy  Gaumer;  he  did  not  like  any 
young,  active,  springing  things. 

Now  he  listened  to  Katy  in  astonishment.  Katy 
flung  herself  upon  Sarah  Ann. 

1 1  Booh !  Don't  look  so  scared.  I  will  not  eat  you, 
Sarah  Ann!  And  I  am  no  spook!  I  am  only  in  a 
hurry.  Teacher,  I  have  told  the  people  about  the 
English  entertainment.  It  is  out.  I  had  to  tell,  be 
cause  the  children  must  know  their  pieces  better. 
Ollie  Kuhns,  he  won't  learn  his  until  his  pop  thrashes 
him  a  couple  of  times,  and  Jimmie  Weygandt's  mom 
will  have  to  make  him  learn  with  a  stick,  and  then 
he  will  not  know  it  anyhow,  perhaps,  and  they  won't 
leave  us  have  the  Sunday  School  organ  to  practice 
beforehand  for  the  singing  unless  they  know  why  it 
is,  and  everybody  must  practice  all  the  time  from 
now  on.  You  see,  I  had  to  tell." 

The  teacher  looked  at  her  dumbly.  So  did  Sarah 
Ann. 

"But  why?"  asked  they  together. 

"Why?"  repeated  Katy,  impatiently,  as  though 
they  might  have  divined  the  wonderful  reason. 
"Why,  because  my  Uncle  Daniel  is  coming.  Is  n't 
that  enough?" 

Sarah  Ann  laid  down  her  apron. 

"Bei  meiner  Seel'!"  said  she  solemnly. 

The  teacher  laid  down  his  papers. 


KATY  GAUMER  15 

"The  governor?"  said  he.  He  had  heard  of  Gov 
ernor  Gaumer.  He  thought  of  the  appointments  in  a 
governor's  power;  he  foresaw  at  once  escape  from 
the  teaching  which  he  hated ;  he  blessed  Katy  be 
cause  she  had  proposed  an  English  entertainment. 
He  blessed  her  inspired  suggestion  of  parental  whip 
pings  for  Ollie  and  Jimmie.  "Sit  down  once,  Katy, 
sit  down." 

It  gave  Katy  another  thrill  of  joy  to  be  thus  so 
licited  by  her  enemy.  But  now  she  could  not  stop. 

"I  must  go  first  home  and  see  my  folks.  Then  I 
will  come  back." 

At  the  squire's  gate,  Bevy  Schnepp  awaited  her. 

"Ach,  come  once  in  a  little,  Katy!" 

"I  cannot!" 

"Just  a  little!  I  have  something  for  you."  Bevy 
put  out  a  futile  arm.  People  were  forever  trying  to 
catch  Katy. 

"No,"  laughed  Katy.  "I'll  put  a  hex  on  you, 
Bevy!  I'll  bewitch  you,  Bevy!" 

Katy  was  gone,  through  her  grandfather's  gate, 
down  the  brick  walk  under  the  pine  trees  to  the 
kitchen  where  sat  grandfather  and  grandmother  and 
the  squire.  Seeing  them  together,  the  two  old  men 
with  their  broad  shoulders  and  their  handsome 
heads  and  the  old  woman  with  her  kindly  face,  a 
stranger  would  have  known  at  once  where  Katy  got 
her  active,  erect  figure  and  her  curly  hair  and  her 
dark  eyes.  All  three  were  handsome ;  all  three  cul 
tivated  as  far  as  their  opportunities  would  allow; 


16  KATY  GAUMER 

all  three  would  have  been  distinguished  in  a  broader 
circle  than  Millerstown  could  offer.  But  here  cir 
cumstances  had  placed  them  and  had  kept  them. 
Even  the  squire,  whose  desk  was  frequently  littered 
with  time-tables,  and  who  planned  constantly  jour 
neys  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,  had  scarcely 
ever  been  away  from  Millerstown. 

Upon  these  three  Katy  rushed  like  a  whirlwind. 

"Is  it  true?'*  she  demanded  breathlessly  in  the 
Pennsylvania  German  which  the  older  folk  loved, 
but  which  was  falling  into  disuse  among  the  young. 

"  Is  what  true?  "  asked  grandfather  and  the  squire 
together.  They  liked  to  tease  Katy,  everybody  liked 
to  tease  Katy. 

"That  my  uncle  the  governor  is  coming?" 

"Yes,"  said  Grandfather  Gaumer.  "Your  uncle 
the  governor  is  coming." 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   BELSNICKEL 

ON  the  afternoon  of  the  entertainment  there  was  an 
air  of  excitement,  both  within  and  without  the 
schoolroom.  Outside  the  clouds  hung  low;  the  win 
ter  wheat  in  the  Weygandt  fields  seemed  to  have 
yielded  up  some  of  its  brilliant  green ;  there  was  no 
color  on  the  mountain-side  which  had  been  warm 
brown  and  purple  in  the  morning  sunshine.  A  snow 
storm  was  brewing,  the  first  of  the  season,  and  Mil- 
lerstown  rejoiced,  believing  that  a  green  Christmas 
makes  a  fat  graveyard.  But  in  spite  of  the  threaten 
ing  storm  nearly  all  Millerstown  moved  toward  the 
schoolhouse. 

The  schoolroom  was  almost  unrecognizable.  The 
walls  were  naturally  a  dingy  brown,  except  where 
the  blackboards  made  them  still  duller;  the  desks 
were  far  apart;  the  distance  from  the  last  row,  where 
the  ill-behaved  liked  to  sit,  to  the  teacher's  desk,  to 
which  they  made  frequent  trips  for  punishment, 
seemed  on  ordinary  days  interminable. 

This  afternoon,  however,  there  was  neither  dull 
ness  nor  extra  space.  The  walls  were  hidden  by 
masses  of  crowfoot  and  pine,  brought  from  the  moun 
tain  ;  the  blackboards  had  vanished  behind  festoons 
of  red  flags  and  bunting.  Into  one  quarter  of  the 


1 8  KATY  GAUMER 

room  the  children  were  so  closely  crowded  that  one 
would  have  said  they  could  never  extricate  them 
selves;  into  the  other  three  quarters  had  squeezed 
and  pressed  their  admiring  relatives  and  friends. 

Grandfather  and  Grandmother  Gaumer  were  here, 
the  latter  with  a  large  and  mysterious  basket,  which 
she  helped  Katy  to  hide  in  the  attic,  the  former 
laughing  with  his  famous  brother.  The  governor  had 
come  on  the  afternoon  train,  and  Katy  had  scarcely 
dared  to  look  at  him.  He  was  tall,  —  she  could  see 
that  without  looking,  —  and  he  had  a  deep,  rich 
voice  and  a  laugh  which  made  one  smile  to  hear  it. 
"  Mommy  Bets  "  Eckert  was  here,  a  generation  older 
than  the  Gaumer  men,  and  dear,  fat  Sarah  Ann 
Mohr,  who  would  not  have  missed  a  Christmas  en 
tertainment  for  anything  you  could  offer  her.  There 
were  half  a  dozen  babies  who  cooed  and  crowed  by 
turns,  and  at  them  cross  Caleb  Stemmel  frowned  — 
Caleb  was  forever  frowning;  and  there  was  Bevy 
Schnepp,  moving  about  like  a  restless  grasshopper, 
her  bright,  bead-like  eyes  on  her  beloved  Katy. 

"She  is  a  fine  platform  speaker,  Katy  is,"  boasted 
Bevy  to  those  nearest  her.  "She  will  beat  them  all." 

Alvin  Koehler,  tall,  slender,  good-looking  even 
to  the  eyes  of  older  persons  than  Katy  Gaumer,  was 
an  usher ;  his  presence  was  made  clear  to  Katy  rather 
by  a  delicious  thrill  than  by  visual  evidence.  It 
went  without  saying  that  his  crazy  father  had  not 
come  to  the  entertainment,  though  none  of  his  small 
businesses  of  bricklaying,  gardening,  or  bee  culture 


KATY  GAUMER  19 

need  have  kept  him  away.  When  Koehler  was  not 
at  work,  he  spent  no  time  attending  entertainments ; 
he  sat  at  his  door  or  window,  watching  the  moun 
tain  road,  and  scolding  and  praying  by  turns. 

Upon  the  last  seat  crouched  David  Hartman,  sul 
len,  frowning,  as  ever.  The  school  entertainment 
was  not  worth  the  attention  of  so  important  a  per 
son  as  his  father,  and  his  mother  could  not  have 
been  persuaded  to  leave  the  constant  toil  with  which 
she  kept  spotless  her  great,  beautiful  house. 

Millerstown's  young  bachelor  doctor  had  come, 
and  he,  too,  watched  Katy  as  she  flew  about  in  her 
scarlet  dress.  The  doctor  was  a  Gaumer  on  his 
mother's  side,  and  from  her  had  inherited  the  Gau 
mer  good  looks  and  the  Gaumer  brains.  Katy's  Un 
cle  Edwin  and  her  Aunt  Sally  had  brought  their  little 
Adam,  a  beautiful,  blond  little  boy,  who  had  his 
piece  to  say  on  this  great  occasion.  Uncle  Edwin 
was  a  Gaumer  without  the  Gaumer  brains,  but  he 
had  all  the  Gaumer  kindness  of  heart.  Of  these  two 
kinsfolk,  Uncle  Edwin  and  fat,  placid  Aunt  Sally, 
Katy  did  not  have  a  very  high  opinion.  Smooth, 
pretty  little  Essie  Hill  had  not  come ;  her  pious  soul 
considered  entertainments  wicked. 

But  Katy  gave  no  thought  to  Essie  or  to  her  ab 
sence  ;  her  mind  was  full  of  herself  and  of  the  great 
visitor  and  of  Alvin  Koehler.  For  Katy  the  play 
had  begun.  The  governor  was  here;  he  looked  kind 
and  friendly;  perhaps  he  would  help  her  to  carry 
out  some  of  her  great  plans  for  the  future.  Since  his 


20  KATY  GAUMER 

coming  had  been  announced,  Katy  had  seen  herself 
in  a  score  of  roles.  She  would  be  a  great  teacher,  she 
would  be  a  fine  lady,  she  would  be  a  missionary  to 
a  place  which  she  called  "Africay."  No  position 
seemed  beyond  Katy's  attainment  in  her  present 
mood. 

Katy  knew  her  part  as  well  as  she  knew  her  own 
name.  It  was  called  "Annie  and  Willie's  Prayer." 
It  was  long  and  hard  for  a  tongue,  which,  for  all  its 
making  fun  of  other  people,  could  not  itself  say  th 
and  v  with  ease.  But  Katy  would  not  fail,  nor  would 
her  little  cousin  Adam,  still  sitting  close  between 
his  father  and  mother,  whom  she  had  taught  to  lisp 
through  "Hang  up  the  Baby's  Stocking."  If  only 
Ollie  Kuhns  knew  the  "Psalm  of  Life,"  and  Jimmie 
Weygandt,  "There  is  a  Reaper  whose  Name  is 
Death,"  as  well!  When  they  began  to  practice, 
Ollie  always  said,  "Wives  of  great  men,"  and  Jim 
mie  always  talked  about  "deas"  for  "death."  But 
those  faults  had  been  diligently  trained  out  of  them. 
All  the  children  had  known  their  parts  this  morning; 
they  had  known  them  so  well  that  Katy's  elaborate 
test  could  not  produce  a  single  blunder,  but  would 
they  know  them  now?  Their  faces  grew  whiter  and 
whiter ;  the  very  pine  branches  seemed  to  quiver  with 
nervousness;  the  teacher —  Mr.  Carpenter,  indeed! 
—  tried  in  vain  to  recall  the  English  speech  which 
he  had  written  out  and  memorized.  As  he  sat 
waiting  for  the  time  to  open  the  entertainment,  he 
frantically  reminded  himself  that  the  prospect  of 


KATY  GAUMER  21 

examinations  had  always  terrified  him,  but  that  he 
invariably  recovered  his  wits  with  the  first  question. 

Once  he  caught  Katy  Gaumer's  eye  and  tried  to 
smile.  But  Katy  did  not  respond.  Katy  looked  at 
him  sternly,  as  though  she  were  the  teacher  and  he 
the  pupil.  She  saw  plainly  enough  what  ailed  him, 
and  prickles  of  fright  went  up  and  down  her  back 
bone.  His  speech  was  to  open  the  entertainment ;  if 
he  failed,  everybody  would  fail.  Katy  had  seen 
panic  sweep  along  the  ranks  of  would-be  orators  in 
the  Millerstown  school  before  this.  She  had  seen 
Jimmie  Weygandt  turn  green  and  tremble  like  a 
leaf ;  she  had  heard  Ellie  Schindler  cry.  If  the  teacher 
would  only  let  her  begin  the  entertainment,  she 
would  not  fail ! 

But  the  teacher  did  not  call  on  Katy.  No  such 
simple  way  out  of  his  difficulty  occurred  to  his  para 
lyzed  brain.  The  Millers tonians  expected  the  fine 
English  entertainment  to  begin;  the  stillness  in  the 
room  grew  deathlike;  the  moments  passed,  and  Mr. 
Carpenter  sat  helpless. 

Then,  suddenly,  Mr.  Carpenter  jumped  to  his 
feet,  gasping  with  relief.  He  knew  what  he  would  do ! 
He  would  say  nothing  at  all  himself;  he  would  call 
upon  the  stranger.  It  was  perfectly  true  that  prece 
dent  put  a  visitor's  speech  at  the  end  of  an  enter 
tainment,  rather  than  at  the  beginning,  but  the 
teacher  cared  not  a  rap  for  precedent.  The  stranger 
should  speak  now,  and  thus  set  an  example  to  the 
children.  Hearing  his  easy  th's  and  v's,  they  would 


22  KATY  GAUMER 

have  less  trouble  with  their  English.  Color  re 
turned  to  the  teacher's  cheeks;  only  Katy  Gaumer 
realized  how  terrified  he  had  been.  So  elated  was 
he  that  he  introduced  the  speaker  without  stum 
bling. 

"It  is  somebody  here  that  we  do  not  have  often 
with  us  at  such  a  time,"  announced  Mr.  Carpenter. 
" It  is  a  governor  here;  he  will  make  us  a  speech." 

The  governor  rose,  smiling,  and  Millerstown, 
smiling,  also,  craned  its  neck  to  see.  Then  Millers- 
town  prepared  itself  to  hear.  What  it  heard,  it  could 
scarcely  believe. 

The  governor  had  spoken  for  at  least  two  minutes 
before  his  hearers  realized  anything  but  a  sharp 
shock  of  surprise.  The  children  looked  and  listened, 
and  gradually  their  mouths  opened;  the  fathers  and 
mothers  heard,  and  at  once  elbows  sought  neigh 
boring  sides  in  astonished  nudges.  Bevy  Schnepp 
actually  exclaimed  aloud;  Mr.  Carpenter  flushed  a 
brilliant,  apoplectic  red.  Only  Katy  Gaumer  sat  un 
moved,  being  too  much  astonished  to  stir.  She  had 
looked  at  the  stranger  with  awe;  she  regarded  him 
now  with  incredulous  amazement. 

The  governor  had  been  away  from  Millerstown 
for  thirty  years;  he  was  a  graduate  of  a  university; 
he  had  honorary  degrees;  the  teacher  had  warned 
the  children  to  look  as  though  they  understood  him 
whether  they  understood  him  or  not. 

"If  he  asks  you  any  English  questions  and  you 
do  not  know  what  he  means,  I  will  prompt  you  a 


KATY  GAUMER  23 

'little,"  the  teacher  had  promised.  "  You  need  only 
to  look  once  a  little  at  me." 

But  the  distinguished  stranger  asked  no  difficult 
English  questions;  the  distinguished  stranger  did 
not  even  speak  English;  he  spoke  his  own  native, 
unenlightened  Pennsylvania  German ! 

It  came  out  so  naturally,  he  seemed  so  like  any 
other  Millerstonian  standing  there,  that  they  could 
hardly  believe  that  he  was  distinguished  and  still 
less  that  he  was  a  stranger.  He  said  that  he  had 
not  been  in  that  schoolroom  for  thirty  years,  and 
that  if  any  one  had  asked  him  its  dimensions,  he 
would  have  answered  that  it  would  be  hard  to  throw 
a  ball  from  one  corner  to  the  other.  And  now  from 
where  he  stood  he  could  almost  touch  its  sides ! 

He  remembered  Caleb  Stemmel  and  called  him 
by  name,  and  asked  whether  he  had  any  little  boys 
and  girls  there  to  speak  pieces,  at  which  everybody 
laughed.  Caleb  Stemmel  was  too  selfish  ever  to 
have  cared  for  anybody  but  himself. 

Still  talking  as  though  he  were  sitting  behind  the 
stove  in  the  store  with  Caleb  and  Danny  Koser  and 
the  rest,  the  governor  said  suddenly  an  astonishing, 
an  incredible,  an  appalling  thing.  Mr.  Carpenter, 
already  a  good  deal  disgusted  by  the  speaker's  lack 
of  taste,  did  not  realize  at  first  the  purport  of  his 
statement,  nor  did  the  fathers  and  mothers,  listening 
entranced.  But  Katy  Gaumer  heard!  He  said  that 
he  had  come  a  thousand  miles  to  hear  a  Pennsylvania 
German  Christmas  entertainment ! 


24  KATY  GAUMER 

He  said  that  it  was  necessary,  of  course,  for  every 
child  to  learn  English,  that  it  was  the  language  of 
his  fatherland;  but  that  at  Christmas  time  they 
should  remember  that  they  had  an  older  fatherland, 
and  that  no  nation  felt  the  Christmas  spirit  like  the 
Germans.  It  was  a  time  when  everybody  should  be 
grateful  for  his  German  blood,  and  should  practice 
his  German  speech.  He  said  that  a  man  with  two 
languages  was  twice  a  man.  He  had  been  looking 
forward  to  this  entertainment  for  weeks;  he  had 
told  his  friends  about  it,  and  had  made  them  curious 
and  envious ;  he  had  thought  about  it  on  the  long 
journey;  he  knew  that  there  was  one  place  where  he 
could  hear  "  Stille  Nacht."  He  almost  dared  to  hope 
that  this  entertainment  would  have  a  Belsnickel. 
If  old  men  could  be  granted  their  dearest  wish, 
they  would  be  young  again.  This  entertainment,  he 
said,  was  going  to  make  him  young  for  one  after 
noon. 

The  great  man  sat  down,  and  at  once  the  little 
man  arose.  Mr.  Carpenter  did  not  pause  as  though 
he  were  frightened,  he  was  no  longer  panic-stricken; 
he  was,  instead,  furious,  furious  with  himself  for 
having  called  on  Daniel  Gaumer  first,  furious  with 
Daniel  Gaumer  for  thus  upsetting  his  teaching.  He 
said  to  himself  that  he  did  not  care  whether  the 
children  failed  or  not.  He  announced  "Annie  and 
Willie's  Prayer." 

It  seemed  for  a  moment  as  though  Katy  herself 
would  fail.  She  stared  into  the  teacher's  eyes,  and 


KATY  GAUMER  25 

the  teacher  thought  that  she  was  crying.  He  could 
not  have  prompted  her  if  his  life  had  depended  upon 
it.  He  glanced  at  the  programme  in  his  hand  to  see 
who  was  to  follow  Katy. 

But  Katy  had  begun.  Katy's  tears  were  those  of 
emotion,  not  those  of  fright.  She  wore  a  red  dress, 
her  best,  which  was  even  redder  than  her  everyday 
apparel;  her  eyes  were  bright,  her  cheeks  flushed, 
she  moved  lightly ;  she  felt  as  though  all  the  world 
were  listening,  and  as  though  —  if  her  swelling 
heart  did  not  choke  her  before  she  began  —  as  though 
she  might  thrill  the  world.  She  knew  how  the  stran 
ger  felt ;  this  was  one  of  the  moments  when  she,  too, 
loved  Millerstown,  and  her  native  tongue  and  her 
own  people.  The  governor  had  come  back ;  this  was 
his  home;  should  he  find  it  an  alien  place?  No,  Katy 
Gaumer  would  keep  it  home  for  him ! 

Katy  bowed  to  the  audience,  she  bowed  to  the 
teacher,  she  bowed  to  the  stranger  —  she  had  effec 
tive,  stagey  ways;  then  she  began.  To  the  staring 
children,  to  the  astonished  fathers  and  mothers,  to 
the  delighted  stranger,  she  recited  a  new  piece. 
They  had  heard  it  all  their  lives,  they  could  have 
recited  it  in  concert.  It  was  not  "Annie  and  Willie's 
Prayer";  it  was  not  even  a  Christmas  piece;  but  it 
was  as  appropriate  to  the  occasion  as  either.  It  was 
"  Das  alt  Schulhaus  an  der  Krick,"  and  the  transla 
tion  compared  with  the  original  as  the  original 
Christmas  entertainment  compared  with  Katy 
Gaumer's. 


26  KATY  GAUMER 

"To-day  it  is  just  twenty  years 

Since  I  began  to  roam ; 
Now,  safely  back,  I  stand  once  more, 
Before  the  quaint  old  schoolhouse  door, 

Close  by  my  father's  home." 

Katy  was  perfectly  self-possessed  throughout;  it 
must  be  confessed  that  praised  and  petted  Katy  was 
often  surer  of  herself  than  a  child  should  be.  There 
were  thirty-one  stanzas  in  her  recitation ;  there  was 
time  to  look  at  each  one  in  her  audience.  At  the 
fathers  and  mothers  she  did  not  look  at  all ;  at  Ollie 
Kuhns  and  Jimmie  Weygandt  and  little  Sarah 
Knerr,  however,  she  looked  hard  and  long.  She  was 
still  staring  at  Ollie  when  she  reached  her  desk,  star 
ing  so  hard  that  she  scarcely  heard  the  applause 
which  the  stranger  led.  She  did  not  sit  down  grace 
fully,  but  hung  halfway  out  of  her  seat,  bracing  her 
self  with  her  arm  round  little  Adam  and  still  gazing 
at  Ollie  Kuhns.  She  had  ceased  to  be  an  actor;  she 
was  now  stage-manager. 

The  teacher  failed  to  announce  Ollie's  speech, 
but  no  one  noticed  the  omission.  Ollie  rose,  grin 
ning.  This  was  a  beautiful  joke  to  him.  He  knew 
what  Katy  meant;  he  was  always  quick  to  under 
stand.  Katy  was  not  the  only  bright  child  in  Millers- 
town.  He  knew  a  piece  entitled  "Der  Belsnickel," 
a  description  of  the  masked,  fur-clad  creature,  the 
St.  Nicholas  with  a  pelt,  who  in  Daniel  Gaumer's 
day  had  brought  cakes  for  good  children  and 
switches  for  the  "nixnutzige."  Ollie  had  terrified 


KATY  GAUMER  27 

his  schoolmates  a  hundred  times  with  his  represen 
tation  of  "Bosco,  the  Wild  Man,  Eats  'em  Alive"; 
it  would  be  a  simple  thing  to  make  the  audience  see 
a  fearful  Belsnickel. 

And  little  Sarah  Knerr,  did  she  not  know  "Das 
Krischkindel,"  which  told  of  the  divine  Christmas 
spirit?  She  had  learned  it  last  year  for  a  Sunday 
School  entertainment;  now,  directed  by  Katy,  she 
rose  and  repeated  it  with  exquisite  and  gentle  pains 
taking.  When  Sarah  had  finished,  Katy  went  to  the 
Sunday  School  organ,  borrowed  for  the  occasion,  on 
which  she  had  taught  herself  to  play.  There  was, 
of  course,  only  one  thing  to  be  sung,  and  that  was 
"Stille  Nacht."  The  children  sang  and  their  fathers 
and  mothers  sang,  and  the  stranger  led  them  all 
with  his  strong  voice. 

Only  Katy  Gaumer,  fixing  one  after  the  other  of 
the  remaining  performers  with  her  eye,  sang  no  more 
after  the  tune  was  started.  There  was  Coonie  Schna- 
ble ;  she  said  to  herself  that  he  would  fail  in  whatever 
he  tried  to  say.  It  would  make  little  difference 
whether  Coonie's  few  unintelligible  words  were 
English  or  German.  Coonie  had  always  been  the 
clown  of  the  entertainments  of  the  Millerstown 
school ;  he  would  be  of  this  one,  also. 

But  Coonie  did  not  fail.  Ellie  Schindler  recited  a 
German  description  of  "The  County  Fair"  with 
out  a  break;  then  Coonie  Schnable  rose.  He  had 
once  "helped "  successfully  in  a  dialogue.  For  those 
who  know  no  Pennsylvania  German  it  must  suffice 


28  KATY  GAUMER 

that  the  dialogue  was  a  translation  of  a  scene 
in  "Hamlet."  For  the  benefit  of  those  who  are 
more  fortunate,  a  translation  is  appended.  Coonie 
recited  all  the  parts,  and  also  the  names  of  the 
speakers. 

Hamlet:  Oh,  du  armes  Schpook! 

Ghost:      Pity  mich  net,  aber  geb  mir  now  dei'  Ohre, 

For  ich  will  dir  amohl  eppas  sawga. 
Hamlet:  Schwets  rous,  for  ich  will  es  now  aw  hera. 
Ghost:      Und  wann  du  heresht,  don  nemhst  aw  satisfaction. 
Hamlet:  Well  was  is's?  Rous  mit! 
Ghost:      Ich  bin  dei'm  Dawdy  sei'  Schpook! 

To  the  children  Coonie's  least  word  and  slightest 
motion  were  convulsing;  now  they  shrieked  with 
glee,  and  their  fathers  and  mothers  with  them.  The 
stranger  seemed  to  discover  still  deeper  springs  of 
mirth;  he  laughed  until  he  cried. 

Only  Katy,  stealing  out,  was  not  there  to  see  the 
end.  Nor  was  she  at  hand  to  speed  little  Adam,  who 
was  to  close  the  entertainment  with  "Hang  up  the 
Baby's  Stocking."  But  little  Adam  had  had  his 
whispered  instructions.  He  knew  no  German  reci 
tation  —  this  was  his  first  essay  at  speech-making  — 
but  he  knew  a  German  Bible  verse  which  his  Grand 
mother  Gaumer  had  taught  him,  "Ehre  sei  Gott  in 
der  Hohe,  und  Friede  auf  Erden,  und  Den  Menschen 
ein  Wohlgef alien."  (Glory  to  God  in  the  Highest 
and  on  earth,  peace,  good  will  toward  men.)  He 
looked  like  a  Christmas  spirit  as  he  said  it,  with  his 
flaxen  hair  and  his  blue  eyes,  as  the  stranger  might 
have  looked  sixty  years  ago.  Daniel  Gaumer  started 


KATY  GAUMER  29 

the  applause,  and  as  little  Adam  passed  him,  lifted 
him  to  his  knee. 

It  is  not  like  the  Millers tonians  to  have  any  enter 
tainment  without  refreshments,  and  for  this  enter 
tainment  refreshments  had  been  provided.  Grand 
mother  Gaumer's  basket  was  filled  to  the  brim  with 
cookies,  ginger-cakes,  sand-tarts,  flapjacks,  in  all 
forms  of  bird  and  beast  and  fish,  and  these  Katy 
went  to  the  attic  to  fetch.  She  ran  up  the  steps; 
she  had  other  and  more  exciting  plans  than  the 
mere  distribution  of  the  treat. 

In  the  attic,  by  the  window,  sullen,  withdrawn 
as  usual,  sat  David  Hartman. 

"You  must  get  out  of  here,"  ordered  Katy  in  her 
lordly  way.  "  I  have  something  to  do  here,  and  you 
must  go  quickly.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  sit 
here  alone.  You  are  always  ugly.  Perhaps"  — 
this  both  of  them  knew  was  flippant  nonsense  — 
" perhaps  you  have  been  after  my  cakes!" 

David  made  no  answer ;  he  only  looked  at  her  from 
under  his  frowning  brows,  then  shambled  down  the 
steps  and  out  the  door  into  the  cold,  gray  after 
noon.  Let  him  take  his  sullenness  and  meanness 
away!  Then  Katy's  bright  eyes  began  to  search  the 
room. 

In  another  moment,  down  in  the  schoolroom, 
little  Adam  cried  out  and  hid  his  face  against  the 
stranger's  breast;  then  another  child  screamed  in 
excited  rapture.  The  Belsnickel  had  come!  It  was 
covered  with  the  dust  of  the  schoolhouse  attic;  it 


30  KATY  GAUMER 

was  not  of  the  traditional  huge  size  —  it  was,  in 
deed,  less  than  five  feet  tall;  but  it  wore  a  furry 
coat  —  the  distinguished  stranger  leaped  to  his  feet, 
saying  that  it  was  not  possible  that  that  old  pelt 
still  survived !  —  it  opened  its  mouth  "  like  scissors," 
as  Ollie  Kuhns's  piece  had  said.  It  had  not  the  tradi 
tional  bag,  but  it  had  a  basket,  Grandmother  Gau- 
mer's,  and  the  traditional  cakes  were  there.  It 
climbed  upon  a  desk,  its  black-stockinged  legs  and 
red  dress  showing  through  the  rents  of  the  old, 
ragged  coat,  and  the  children  surrounded  it,  laugh 
ing,  begging,  screaming  with  delight. 

The  stranger  stood  and  looked  at  Katy.  He  did 
not  yet  realize  how  large  a  part  she  had  had  in  the 
entertainment,  though  about  that  a  proud  grand 
father  would  soon  inform  him ;  he  saw  the  Gaumer 
eyes  and  the  Gaumer  bright  face,  and  he  remembered 
with  sharp  pain  the  eyes  of  a  little  sister  gone  fifty 
years  ago. 

"Who  is  that  child?"  he  asked. 

Katy's  grandfather  called  her  to  him,  and  she 
came  slowly,  slipping  like  a  crimson  butterfly  from 
the  old  coat,  which  the  other  children  seized  upon 
with  joy.  She  heard  the  governor's  question  and 
her  grandfather's  answer. 

"  It  is  my  Abner's  only  child." 

Then  Katy's  eyes  met  the  stranger's  bright  gaze. 
She  halted  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  as  though  she 
did  not  know  exactly  what  she  was  doing.  Their 
praise  embarrassed  her,  her  foolish  anger  at  David 


KATY  GAUMER  31 

Hartman  hurt  her,  her  head  swam.  Even  her  joy 
seemed  to  smother  her.  This  great  man  had  hated 
Millerstown,  as  she  hated  Millerstown,  sometimes, 
or  he  would  not  have  gone  away ;  he  had  loved  it  as 
she  did,  or  he  would  not  have  come  back  to  laugh 
and  weep  with  his  old  friends.  Perhaps  he,  too,  had 
wanted  everything  and  had  not  known  how  to  get 
it;  perhaps  he,  too,  had  wanted  to  fly  and  had  not 
known  where  to  find  wings!  A  consciousness  of  his 
friendliness,  of  his  kinship,  seized  upon  her.  He 
would  understand  her,  help  her!  And  like  the  child 
she  was,  Katy  ran  to  him.  Indeed,  he  understood 
even  now,  for  stooping  to  kiss  her,  he  hid  her  foolish 
tears  from  Millerstown. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   GREAT   MAN 

ON  ordinary  Christmas  days,  when  only  the  squire 
and  the  doctor  and  Uncle  Edwin  and  Aunt  Sally 
and  little  Adam  and  Bevy  Schnepp  dined  at  Grand 
father  Gaumer's,  Grandmother  Gaumer  and  Bevy 
prepared  a  fairly  elaborate  feast.  There  was  always 
a  turkey,  a  twenty-five  pounder  with  potato  filling, 
there  were  all  procurable  vegetables,  there  were 
always  cakes  and  pies  and  preserves  and  jellies  with 
out  number.  One  gave  one's  self  up  with  cheerful 
helplessness  to  indigestion,  one  resigned  one's  self 
to  next  day's  headache  —  that  is,  if  one  were  not  a 
Gaumer.  No  Gaumer  ever  had  headache. 

It  cannot  be  claimed  for  Katy  that  she  was  of 
much  assistance  to  her  elders  on  this  Christmas  Day, 
tall  girl  though  she  was.  Grandfather  Gaumer  and 
the  governor  started  soon  after  breakfast  to  pay 
calls  in  the  village  and  her  thoughts  were  with  them. 
How  glad  every  one  would  be  to  see  the  governor; 
how  they  would  press  cakes  and  candy  upon  him; 
how  he  would  joke  with  them ;  how  they  would  treas 
ure  what  he  said !  What  a  wonderful  thing  it  was  to 
be  famous  and  to  have  every  one  admire  you ! 

"I  would  keep  the  chair  he  sat  in,"  said  Katy. 
"  I  would  put  it  away  and  keep  it." 


KATY  GAUMER  33 

Presently  Katy  saw  Katy  Gaumer  coming  back 
to  her  native  Millerstown,  covered  with  honors,  of 
what  sort  Katy  did  not  exactly  know,  and  going 
about  on  Christmas  morning  to  see  the  Millers- 
town  Christmas  trees  and  to  receive  the  homage  of  a 
delighted  community. 

Meanwhile,  Katy  tripped  over  her  own  feet  and 
sent  a  dish  flying  from  the  kitchen  table,  and  started 
to  fill  the  teakettle  from  the  milk-pitcher.  Finally, 
to  Bevy  Schnepp's  disgust,  Katy  spilled  the  salt. 
Bevy  was  as  much  one  of  the  party  as  the  governor. 
She  moved  swiftly  about,  her  little  face  twisted  into 
a  knot,  profoundly  conscious  of  the  importance  of 
her  position  as  assistant  to  the  chief  cook  on  this 
great  day,  her  shrill  voice  now  breathing  forth  com 
mands,  now  recounting  strange  tales.  Grandmother 
Gaumer,  to  whose  kitchen  Bevy  was  a  thrice  daily 
visitor,  had  long  ago  accustomed  herself  not  to  listen 
to  the  flow  of  speech,  and  had  thereby  probably 
saved  her  own  reason. 

"You  fetch  me  hurry  a  few  coals,  Katy.  Now 
don't  load  yourself  down  so  you  cannot  walk! 
'The  more  haste  the  less  speed!'  Adam,  you  take 
your  feet  to  yourself  or  they  will  get  stepped  on  for 
sure.  Gran'mom,  your  pies!  You  better  get  them 
out  or  they  burn  to  nothing !  Go  in  where  the  Putz 
is,  Adam,  then  you  are  not  all  the  time  under  the 
folks'  feet.  Sally  Edwin,  you  peel  a  few  more  pota 
toes  for  me,  will  you,  Sally,  for  the  mashed  potatoes? 
Mashed  potatoes  go  down  like  nothing.  Ach,  I  had 


34  KATY  GAUMER 

the  worst  time  with  my  supper  yesterday!  The 
chicken  would  n't  get,  and  the  governor  was  there. 
I  tell  you,  the  Old  Rip  was  in  it!  But  I  carried  the 
pan  three  times  round  the  house  and  then  it  done 
fine  for  me.  Katy,  if  you  take  another  piece  of  cel 
ery,  I'll  teach  you  the  meaning.  To  eat  my  nice 
celery  that  I  cleaned  for  dinner!  And  the  hard,  yet! 
If  you  want  celery,  fetch  some  for  yourself  and  clean 
it  and  eat  it.  I  'd  be  ashamed,  Katy,  a  big  girl  like 
you !  You  want  to  be  so  high  gelernt,  you  think  you 
are  a  platform  speaker,  yet  you  would  eat  celery 
out  of  the  plate.  Look  out,  the  salt,  Katy!  Well, 
Katy !  Would  you  spill  the  salt,  yet !  Do  you  want 
to  put  a  hex  on  everything?  I  —  " 

11  Bevy ! "  Katie  exploded  with  alarm. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  Bevy. 

"Your  mouth  is  open!" 

"  II —  I  —  "  Bevy  gurgled,  then  gasped.  Bevy  was 
not  slow  on  the  uptake.  "I  opened  it,  I  opened  it 
a-purpose  to  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you.  I  —  " 
'•  But  Katy,  hearing  an  opening  door,  had  gone, 
dancing  into  the  sitting-room,  where,  on  great  days 
like  this,  the  feast  was  spread.  The  room  was  larger 
than  the  kitchen ;  in  the  center  stood  the  long  table, 
and  in  one  corner  was  the  Christmas  tree  with  the 
elaborate  "Putz,"  a  garden  in  which  miniature 
sheep  and  cows  walked  through  forests  and  swans 
swam  on  glass  lakelets.  Before  the  "Putz,"  en 
tranced,  sat  fat  Adam;  near  by,  beside  the  shiny 
"double-burner,"  the  governor  and  his  brothers 


KATY  GAUMER  35 

and  young  Dr.  Benner  were  establishing  them 
selves.  The  governor  had  still  a  hundred  questions 
to  ask. 

Katy  perched  herself  on  the  arm  of  her  grand 
father's  chair,  saying  to  herself  that  Bevy  might 
call  forever  now  and  she  would  not  answer.  The 
odor  of  roasting  turkey  filled  the  house,  intoxicat 
ing  the  souls  of  hungry  men,  but  it  was  not  half  so 
potent  as  this  breath  of  power,  this  atmosphere  of 
the  great  world  of  affairs,  which  surrounded  Great- 
Uncle  Gaumer.  Katy's  heart  thumped  as  she  lis 
tened;  the  great,  vague  plans  which  she  had  made 
in  the  night  seemed  at  one  moment  possible  of  exe 
cution,  at  the  next  absolutely  mad.  Her  face  flushed 
and  her  skin  pricked  as  she  thought  of  making  known 
her  desires;  her  heart  seemed  to  sink  far  below  its 
proper  resting-place.  She  listened  to  the  governor 
with  round,  excited  eyes,  now  praying  for  courage, 
now  yielding  to  despair. 

The  governor's  questions  did  not  refer  to  the 
great  world,  —  it  seemed  as  though  the  world  had 
become  of  no  account  to  him,  —  but  to  Millers- 
town,  the  Millerstown  of  his  youth,  of  apple-butter 
matches,  of  raffles,  of  battalions,  of  the  passing 
through  of  troops  to  the  war,  of  the  rough  preachers 
of  a  stirring  age.  He  remembered  many  things  which 
his  brothers  had  forgotten;  they  and  the  younger 
folk  listened  entranced.  As  for  Bevy,  moving  about 
on  tiptoe,  so  as  not  to  miss  a  word,  —  it  was  a  mar 
vel  that  she  was  able  to  finish  the  dinner. 


36  KATY  GAUMER 

"He  traveled  on  horseback,"  said  the  governor. 
"He  had  nothing  to  his  name  in  all  the  world  but  his 
horse  and  his  old  saddlebags,  and  he  visited  the 
people  whether  they  wanted  him  or  not.  At  our 
house  he  was  always  welcome,  —  he  stayed  once  a 
whole  winter,  —  and  on  Sundays  he  used  to  give 
it  to  us  in  church,  I  can  tell  you!  Everything  he'd 
yell  out  that  would  come  into  his  mind.  One  Sun 
day  he  yelled  at  me,  *  There  you  stand  in  the  choir, 
and  you  could  n't  get  a  pig's  bristle  between  your 
teeth.  Sing  out,  Daniel!' 

"But  he  could  preach  powerfully!  He  made  the 
people  listen !  There  was  no  sleeping  in  the  church 
when  he  was  in  the  pulpit.  If  the  young  people  did 
not  pay  attention,  he  called  right  out, '  John,  behave! 
Susy,  look  at  me ! ' ' 

"We  have  such  a  preacher  here,"  said  Uncle  Ed 
win  in  his  slow  way.  "He  is  a  Improved  New  Men- 
nonite.  He  —  " 

"They  wear  hats  with  Scripture  on  them,  and 
they  sing,  '  If  you  love  your  mother,  keep  her  in  the 
sky,'"  interrupted  Katy. 

"' Meet  her  in  the  sky,'"  corrected  Grandmother 
Gaumer.  "That  has  some  sense  to  it." 

"He  won't  read  the  words  as  they  are  written  in 
the  Bible,"  went  on  Uncle  Edwin,  apparently  not 
minding  the  interruption.  He  shared  with  the  rest 
of  Katy's  kin  their  foolish  opinion  of  Katy.  "He 
says  the  words  that  are  printed  fine  don't  belong 
there,  they  are  put  in.  It  is  like  riding  on  a  bad  road, 


KATY  GAUMER  37 

his  reading.  It  goes  bump,  bump.  It  sounds  very 
funny." 

"He  preaches  on  queer  texts,"  said  Katy.  "He 
preached  on  'She  Fell  in  Love  with  her  Mother-in- 
Law.'" 

"Now,  Katy!"  admonished  Grandmother  Gau- 
mer. 

Bevy  Schnepp  had  endured  as  much  as  she  could 
of  insult  to  the  denomination  to  which  she  belonged 
and  to  the  preacher  under  whom  she  sat. 

"Your  Lutheran  preachers  have  'kein  Saft  und 
kein  Kraft,  kein  Salz  und  kein  Peffer'  [no  sap  and 
no  strength,  no  salt  and  no  pepper],"  she  quoted. 
"They  are  me  too  leppish  [insipid].  You  must  give 
these  things  a  spiritual  meaning.  It  meant  Naomi 
and  Ruth." 

The  governor  smiled  his  approval  at  Bevy.  ' '  R  igh t 
you  are,  Bevy!"  Then  he  began  to  ask  questions 
about  his  former  acquaintances. 

"  What  has  come  over  John  Hartman?  " 

"While  he  is  so  cross,  you  mean?"  said  Grand 
father  Gaumer.  "  I  don't  know  what  has  come  over 
him.  It  is  a  strange  thing.  He  is  so  long  queer  that 
we  forget  he  was  ever  any  other  way." 

"Was  he  ugly  this  morning?  "  asked  Grandmother 
Gaumer. 

"He  did  n't  ask  us  to  come  in  and  she  did  n't 
come  to  the  door  at  all." 

Bevy  Schnepp,  entering  with  laden  hands,  made 
sharp  comment. 


38  KATY  GAUMER 

"She  is  afraid  her  things  will  get  spoiled  if  the  sun 
or  the  moon  or  the  cold  air  strikes  them.  She  is 
crazy  for  cleanness.  She  will  get  yet  like  fat  Abby. 
Fat  Abby  once  washed  her  hands  fifteen  times  before 
breakfast,  and  if  he  (her  husband)  touched  the 
coffee-pot  even  to  push  it  back  with  his  finger  if  it 
was  boiling  over,  then  she  would  make  fresh." 

"And  do  the  Koehlers  still  live  on  the  mountain?" 

"There  are  only  two  Koehlers  left,"  answered  the 
squire,  "William  and  his  boy."  The  squire  shook 
his  head  solemnly.  "It  is  a  queer  thing  about  the 
Koehlers,  too.  The  others  were  honest  and  right 
in  their  minds,  but  William,  he  is  none  of  these 
things." 

"Not  honest!11  said  the  governor. 

"About  fifteen  years  ago  he  did  some  bricklaying 
at  the  church  and  he  had  the  key  of  the  communion 
cupboard.  The  solid  service  was  there  and  while  he 
was  working  it  disappeared." 

"Disappeared!"  repeated  the  governor.  "You 
mean  he  took  it?  What  could  he  do  with  it?" 

"I  don't  know.  Nobody  knows.  He  goes  about 
muttering  and  praying  over  it.  They  say  his  boy 
hardly  gets  enough  to  eat.  I  can't  understand  it." 

"  He ! "  Bevy  now  had  the  great  turkey  platter  in 
her  arms;  its  weight  and  her  desire  to  express  her 
self  made  her  gasp.  "He!  He  looks  at  a  penny  till 
it  is  a  twenty-dollar  gold-piece.  And  you  ought  to 
see  his  boy !  He  is  for  all  the  world  like  a  girl.  '  Like 
father,  like  son!'  He'll  do  something,  too,  yet." 


KATY  GAUMER  39 

Katy  slid  from  the  arm  of  her  grandfather's  chair, 
her  cheeks  aflame. 

"  You  have  to  look  at  pennies  when  you  are  poor," 
she  protested.  "  You  can't  throw  money  round  when 
you  don't  have  it!" 

Bevy  slid  the  platter  gently  to  its  place  on  the 
table,  then  she  faced  about. 

"Now,  listen  once!"  cried  she  with  admiration. 
"You  can't  throw  money  round  when  you  don't 
have  it,  can't  you?  What  do  you  know  about  it,  you 
little  chicken?" 

Katy's  face  flushed  a  deeper  crimson.  If  looks 
could  have  slain,  Bevy  would  have  dropped.  Young 
Dr.  Benner  turned  and  looked  at  Katy  suddenly 
and  curiously.  She  would  have  gone  on  expostulat 
ing  had  not  Grandmother  Gaumer  risen  and  the 
other  Gaumers  with  her,  all  moving  with  one  accord 
toward  the  feast.  There  was  time  only  for  a  secret 
and  threatening  gesture  toward  Bevy,  then  Katy 
bent  her  head  with  the  rest. 

'"The  eyes  of  all  wait  upon  Thee,' "  said  Grand 
father  Gaumer  in  German.  "'Thou  givest  them 
their  meat  in  due  season.' ' 

Heartily  the  Gaumers  began  upon  the  Christmas 
feast,  the  feast  beside  which  the  ordinary  Christmas 
dinner  was  so  poor  and  simple  a  thing.  Here  was 
the  turkey,  done  to  a  turn,  here  were  all  possible 
vegetables,  all  possible  pies  and  cakes  and  preserves. 
To  these  Grandmother  Gaumer  had  added  a  few 
common  side-dishes,  so  that  her  brother-in-law 


40  KATY  GAUMER 

might  not  return  to  the  West  without  a  taste,  at 
least,  of  all  the  staple  foods  of  his  childhood.  There 
was  a  slice  of  home-raised,  home-cured  ham;  there 
was  a  piece  of  smoked  sausage;  there  was  a  dish  of 
Sauerkraut  and  a  dish  of  "Schnitz  und  Knopf,"  — - 
these  last  because  the  governor  had  mentioned  them 
yesterday  in  his  speech.  It  was  well  that  the  squire 
lived  next  door  and  that  Bevy  had  her  own  stove  to 
use  as  well  as  Grandmother  Gaumer's. 

Bevy  occupied  the  chair  nearest  the  kitchen  door. 
There  are  few  class  distinctions  in  Millerstown, 
though  one  is  not  expected  to  leave  the  station  in 
life  in  which  he  was  born.  It  was  proper  for  Bevy 
to  occupy  the  position  of  maid  and  for  little  Katy 
to  go  to  school.  If  Katy  had  undertaken  to  live  out, 
or  Bevy  to  become  learned,  Millerstown  would 
have  disapproved  of  both  of  them.  When  each  re 
mained  in  her  place,  they  were  equal. 

The  governor  tasted  all  the  dishes  serenely,  and 
Grandmother  Gaumer  apologized  from  beginning 
to  end,  as  is  polite  in  Millerstown.  The  turkey  might 
have  been  heavier  —  if  he  had,  he  would  certainly 
have  perished  long  before  Grandfather's  axe  was 
sharpened  for  him !  The  pie  might  have  been  flakier, 
the  sausage  might  have  been  smoked  a  bit  longer  — 
it  would  have  been  sinful  to  add  a  breath  of  smoke 
to  what  was  already  perfect. 

"And  then  it  would  n't  have  been  ready  for  to 
day!"  said  the  governor. 

"But  we  might  have  begun  earlier."    Grand- 


KATY  GAUMER  41 

mother  Gaumer  would  not  yield  her  point.  "If  we 
had  butchered  two  days  earlier,  it  would  have  been 
better." 

When  human  power  could  do  no  more,  when  Bevy 
had  no  more  breath  for  urgings,  such  as,  "Ach,  eat 
it  up  once,  so  it  gets  away!"  or  "Ach,  finish  it;  it 
stood  round  long  enough  already!"  the  Gaumers 
pushed  back  their  chairs  and  talked  with  mellower 
wit  and  softer  hearts  of  old  times,  of  father  and 
mother  and  grandparents,  and  of  the  little  sister 
who  had  died. 

"She  was  just  thirteen,"  said  Governor  Gaumer. 
"She  was  the  liveliest  little  girl!  I  often  think  if  she 
had  lived,  she  would  have  made  of  herself  something 
different  from  the  other  people  in  Millerstown.  But 
now  she  would  have  been  an  old  woman,  think  of 
that!"  The  governor  held  out  his  hand  and  Katy 
came  across  to  him,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Katy 
was  always  easily  moved.  "Didn't  she  look  like 
this  one?" 

"Yes,"  agreed  Grandfather  Gaumer.  "That  I 
always  said." 

The  governor  laid  both  his  hands  on  Katy's 
shoulders. 

"And  what"  —  said  he,  —  "what  are  you  going 
to  do  in  this  world,  Miss  Katy?" 

Katy  looked  up  at  him  with  a  deep,  deep  breath. 
She  had  thought  that  yesterday  held  a  great  mo 
ment,  but  here  was  a  much  greater  one.  She  clasped 
her  hands,  she  gasped  again,  she  looked  the  governor 


42  KATY  GAUMER 

straight  in  the  face.  Here  was  her  opportunity,  the 
opportunity  which  she  had  begun  to  think  would 
never  come. 

"Ach,"  said  Katy  with  a  deep  sigh,  "when  I  am 
through  the  Millerstown  school,  I  should  like  to  go 
to  a  big  school  and  learn  every  thing  I" 

The  governor  smiled  upon  her. 

"Everything,  Katy!" 

"Yes,"  sighed  Katy. 

"Listen  to  her  once!"  cried  Bevy  Schnepp  with 
pride. 

"Can't  you  learn  enough  here?" 

"I  am  already  in  the  next  to  the  highest  class," 
explained  Katy.  "And  our  teacher,  he  is  not  a  very 
good  one.  He  wants  to  be  English  and  a  teacher 
ought  to  be  English,  but  he  is  werry  Germaner  than 
the  scholars.  He  said  to  us  in  school, '  We  are  to  have 
nothing  but  English  here,  do  you  versteh?'  That  is 
exactly  the  way  he  said  it  to  us.  He  says  lots  of 
words  that  are  not  English.  I  want  to  be  English. 
I  —  " 

"Just  listen  now!"  cried  Bevy  again,  her  hands 
piled  high  with  dishes. 

"  I  want  to  be  well  educated,"  finished  Katy  with 
glowing  cheeks. 

"And  what  would  you  do  when  you  were  edu 
cated?"  asked  the  governor. 

"I  would  leave  Millerstown,"  said  Katy. 

"Why?"  asked  the  governor. 

"It  would  be  no  use  having  an  education  in  Mil- 


KATY  GAUMER  43 

lerstown,"  answered  Katy  with  conviction.  "You 
have  no  idea  how  slow  Millers  town  is." 

"And  where  did  you  think  you  would  go?" 

"  Perhaps  to  Phildel'phy,"  answered  Katy.  "  Per 
haps  I  would  be  a  missionary  to  Africay." 

Strange  sounds  issued  from  the  throats  of  Katy's 
kin. 

"You  are  sure  you  could  do  nothing  in  Millers- 
town  with  an  education?"  asked  the  governor. 

"  It  is  nothing  to  do  here,"  explained  Katy.  "You 
can  walk  round  Millers  town  a  whole  evening  and 
you  don't  hear  anything  and  you  don't  see  any 
thing." 

"Would  she  like  murders?"  demanded  Bevy 
Schnepp. 

"You  go  in  the  store  and  Caleb  Stemmel  and 
Danny  Koser  are  too  dumb  and  lazy  even  to  read 
the  paper,  and  Sarah  Ann  Mohr  is  hemming  and 
everybody  else  is  sleeping.  The  married  people  sit 
round  and  don't  say  anything,  and  —  " 

"Do  you  want  them  to  fight?"  Bevy  was  not  dis 
couraged  by  being  ignored. 

"You  think  it  would  be  better  to  be  a  missionary?" 
said  the  governor. 

"It  would  be  better  to  be  anything"  declared 
Katy  fervently.  "I  cannot  stand  Millerstown ! " 
Katy  clasped  her  hands  and  looked  into  the  face  of 
her  distinguished  relative.  "Oh,  please,  please  make 
them  send  me  away  to  a  big  school!  I  prayed  for 
it!  "added  Katy. 


44  KATY  GAUMER 

Over  Katy's  head  the  eyes  of  her  elders  met.  The 
older  folk  thought  of  the  little  girl  who  might  have 
been  something  different,  the  squire  remembered 
the  journeys  he  had  planned  in  his  youth  and  the 
years  he  had  waited  to  take  them. 

But  to  Katy's  chagrin  and  bitter  disappointment, 
no  one  said  another  word  about  an  education. 
Grandmother  Gaumer  suggested  that  Katy  might 
help  Aunt  Sally  and  Bevy  with  the  dishes.  After 
wards,  Katy  was  called  upon  to  say  her  piece  once 
more.  When  little  Adam  followed  with  his  Bible 
verse  and  was  given  equal  praise,  Katy's  poor  heart, 
sinking  lower  and  lower,  reached  the  most  depressed 
position  which  it  is  possible  for  a  heart  to  assume. 
Her  cause  was  lost. 

Then  the  governor  prepared  to  start  on  his  long 
journey  to  the  West.  There  he  had  grown  sons  and 
daughters  and  little  grandchildren  whom  these 
Eastern  cousins  might  never  see.  He  kissed  Grand 
mother  Gaumer  and  his  niece  Sally  and  little  Adam 
and  Katy,  and  shook  hands  with  Bevy  Schnepp, 
then  he  returned  and  kissed  Grandmother  Gaumer 
once  more.  There  was  something  solemn  in  his  fare 
well;  at  sight  of  Grandmother  Gaumer's  face  Katy 
was  keenly  conscious  once  more  of  her  own  despair. 
From  the  window  she  watched  the  three  old  men  go 
down  the  street,  the  famous  man  who  had  gone  away 
from  Millers  town  and  the  two  who  had  stayed.  It 
seemed  to  Katy  that  the  two  were  less  noble  because 
of  the  obscurity  of  their  lives. 


KATY  GAUMER  45 

"Why  did  gran'pop  stay  here  always?"  she 
asked  when  she  and  her  grandmother  were  alone. 
"Why  did  uncle  go  away?" 

"Gran'pop  was  the  oldest,  and  he  and  the  squire 
had  to  stay  here.  Uncle  had  the  chance  to  go." 

"But — "  Katy  crossed  to  her  grandmother's 
side.  Everything  was  still  in  the  warm,  pine- 
scented  room.  "But,  grandmother,  why  do  you 
cry?" 

"I  am  not  crying,"  said  grandmother  brightly. 

"  But  you  look  —  you  look  as  if  "  —  Katy  struggled 
for  words  in  which  to  express  her  thoughts  —  "as  if 
everything  were  finished!" 

Grandmother  sighed  gently.  "  I  am  an  old  woman, 
Katy,  and  your  uncle  is  an  old  man.  We  may  never 
see  each  other  again." 

"Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear!"  cried  Katy.  "This  is  a 
very  sad  Christmas!" 

It  was  not  the  sadness  of  parting  which  made 
Katy  cry.  It  was  unthinkable  that  anything  should 
change  for  her.  Everything  would  be  the  same,  al 
ways  —  alas,  that  it  should  be  so !  She,  Katy  Gau- 
mer,  with  all  her  smartness  in  school,  and  all  her 
ability  to  plan  and  manage  entertainments,  would 
stay  here  in  this  spot  until  she  died.  Grandmother 
Gaumer,  reproaching  herself,  comforted  her  for  that 
which  was  not  a  grief  at  all. 

"We  will  be  here  a  long  time  yet.  And  you  are 
to  go  away  to  school,  and  —  " 

Katy  sprang  to  her  feet. 


46  KATY  GAUMER 

"Who  says  it,  gran'mom?  Who  says  I  dare  go  to 
school?" 

"Your  gran'pop  said  it,  and  your  uncles  said  it 
when  you  were  out  with  Bevy.  You  are  to  study 
here  till  you  are  through  with  the  highest  class,  then 
you  are  to  go  away.  Your  uncle  will  find  a  school: 
he  will  send  us  catalogues  and  he  will  give  us  ad 
vice." 

Katy  clasped  her  hands. 

"I  do  not  deserve  it!" 

"You  said  you  prayed  for  it,"  reminded  Grand 
mother  Gaumer. 

"But  I  prayed  without  faith,"  confessed  Katy. 
"I  did  not  believe  for  one  little  minute  it  would 
ever  come  true  in  this  world!" 

"Well,"  said  Grandmother  Gaumer,  "it  is  coming 
true." 

Here  for  once  was  bliss  without  alloy,  here  was 
a  rapture  without  reaction.  Christmas  entertain 
ments,  at  which  one  did  well,  ended;  there  was  no 
outlook  from  them,  and  it  was  the  same  with  per 
fect  recitations  in  school.  But  this  was  different. 
One  had  the  moment's  complete  joy,  one  had  also 
something  much  better. 

"I  must  study,"  planned  Katy.  "I  must  learn. 
I  must  make"  —  alas,  that  one's  joy  should  be  an 
other's  bitter  trial!  —  "I  must  make  that  teacher 
learn  me  everything  he  knows!" 

It  was  dusk  when  Grandfather  Gaumer  came 
home. 


KATY  GAUMER  47 

"I  told  Katy,"  said  Grandmother  Gaumer. 

"  Daniel  gave  me  two  hundred  dollars  to  put  in 
the  bank  in  Katy's  name,"  announced  Grandfather 
Gaumer  solemnly.  "  It  shall  be  spent  for  books  and 
to  start  Katy.  He  and  the  squire  and  I  will  see  her 
through. ' 

Katy  flung  herself  upon  her  grandfather. 

"I  will  learn  everything,"  she  promised.  "I  will 
make  you  proud  of  me.  Like  it  says  in  the  Sunday 
School  book,  'I  will  bring  home  my  sheaves.'  And 
now,"  said  Katy,  "I  am  going  to  run  out  to  the 
schoolhouse  and  back." 

In  an  instant  she  was  gone,  scarlet  shawl  about 
her,  slamming  the  door.  Perhaps  the  two  old  peo 
ple  sitting  together  were  not  sorry  to  have  her  away 
for  a  while.  The  day  with  its  memories  and  its  part 
ing  had  been  hard,  and  the  mere  youthfulness  of 
youth  is  sometimes  difficult  for  age  to  bear. 

"Her  legs  fly  like  the  arms  of  a  windmill,"  said 
Grandfather  Gaumer. 

Then  they  sat  silently  together. 

Already  Katy  was  halfway  out  to  the  schoolhouse. 
The  threatened  snow  had  fallen  and  the  sky  had 
cleared  at  sunset.  There  was  still  a  faint,  rosy  glow 
in  the  west,  a  glow  which  was  presently  dimmed  by 
the  brighter  light  which  spread  over  the  landscape 
as  the  cinder  ladle  at  the  furnace  turned  out  its 
fiery  charge  upon  the  cinder  bank.  When  that  flame 
faded,  the  stars  were  shining  brightly;  Katy  stood 
in  the  road  before  the  schoolhouse  and  looked  up 


48  KATY  GAUMER 

at  them  and  then  round  about  her.  The  schoolhouse, 
glorified  by  her  recent  triumph,  was  further  sancti 
fied  by  her  great  hopes.  Beside  it  on  the  hillside 
stood  the  little  church,  where  she  had  been  con 
firmed  and  had  had  her  first  communion,  where  dur 
ing  the  long  German  sermons  she  had  dreamed 
many  dreams,  and  where  she  had  been  thrilled  by 
solemn  watch-night  services.  Millerstown  was  not 
without  power  to  impress  itself  even  upon  one  who 
hated  it. 

Now  Katy  raced  down  the  hill.  But  she  was  not 
ready  to  go  into  the  house.  She  shrieked  into  Bevy 
Schnepp's  kitchen  window ;  she  almost  upset  Caleb 
Stemmel  as  he  plodded  to  his  place  behind  the  stove 
in  the  store,  wishing  that  there  were  no  Christ- 
mases ;  she  ran  once  more  to  the  end  of  Locust  Street 
and  across  to  Church  Street  and  looked  through  the 
thick  trees  at  the  Hartman  house.  David  had  surely 
some  handsome  Christmas  gifts  from  his  parents. 
Then,  straining  her  eyes,  she  gazed  up  at  the  little 
white  house  on  the  mountain-side.  There  was  not 
much  Christmas  there,  that  was  certain,  but  Alvin 
was  there,  handsome,  adorable.  Alvin  would  pay 
heed  to  her  if  she  was  going  away,  the  one  person 
in  Millerstown  to  be  educated ! 

Then  Katy  stretched  out  her  arms. 

"Oh,  dear  Millerstown!"  cried  Katy.  "Oh,  dear, 
dumb  Millerstown,  I  am  going  away  from  you!" 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   KOEHLERS'    CHRISTMAS  DAY 

AT  Grandfather  Gaumer's  house,  where  the  gov 
ernor  dined;  at  the  Weygandt  farm  where  there 
was  another  great  family  dinner;  at  the  Kuhnses, 
where  Ollie  still  swelled  proudly  over  yesterday's 
oratorical  triumph ;  at  Sarah  Ann  Mohr's,  where  ten 
indigent  guests  filled  themselves  full  of  fat  duck, 
—  indeed,  one  might  say  at  every  house  in  Mil- 
lerstown,  there  was  feasting.  The  very  air  smelled 
of  roasting  and  boiling  and  frying,  and  the  birds 
passing  overhead  stopped  and  settled  hopefully 
on  trees  and  roofs. 

But  in  the  house  of  William  Koehler,  just  above 
Millerstown  on  the  mountain  road,  there  was  no 
turkey  or  goose  done  to  a  turn,  there  were  no  pies, 
there  was  no  fine-cake.  Here  was  no  mother  or 
grandmother  to  make  preserves  or  to  compound 
mincemeat  in  preparation  for  this  day  of  days. 
What  mother  there  had  been  was  seldom  thought 
of  in  the  little  house. 

Here  the  day  passed  like  any  other  day,  except 
that  it  was  duller  and  less  tolerable.  There  was  no 
school  for  Alvin  and  no  work  for  his  father,  and  they 
had  to  spend  the  long  hours  together.  Alvin  did  not 
like  school,  but  to-day  he  would  cheerfully  have  gone 


50  KATY  GAUMER 

before  daylight  and  have  remained  until  dark.  His 
father  did  not  like  holidays;  they  removed  the  goal, 
for  which  he  worked  and  of  which  he  thought  night 
and  day,  a  little  farther  away  from  him.  He  would 
have  preferred  to  work  every  day,  even  on  Sundays. 

William  was  a  mason  by  trade,  but  when  there 
was  no  mason  work  for  him,  he  was  willing  to  turn 
his  hand  to  anything  which  would  bring  him  a  little 
money.  Another  mason  had  recently  established 
himself  in  the  village,  urged,  it  was  supposed,  by 
those  who  were  unwilling  to  admit  Koehler  to  their 
houses  for  the  occasional  bits  of  plastering  which  had 
to  be  done.  There  was  no  question  that  Koehler 
was  very  queer.  Not  only  was  he  likely  to  kneel 
down  at  any  moment  and  begin  to  pray,  but  he  did 
other  singular  things.  He  had  once  worked  until  two 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  without  his  dinner,  because 
his  watch  had  stopped  and  he  had  not  sense  enough  to 
know  it.  It  was  not  strange  that  thrifty  Millerstown 
agreed  that  he  was  not  a  safe  person  to  have  about. 

Between  him  and  his  son  there  was  little  sym 
pathy;  there  was,  indeed,  seldom  speech.  Alvin  was 
bitterly  ashamed  of  his  father,  of  his  miserly  ways,  of 
his  shabby  clothes,  and  above  all,  of  his  insane  habit 
of  praying.  William  prayed  incoherently  about  the 
communion  service  which  he  was  supposed  to  have 
stolen  —  at  least,  that  was  what  seemed  to  be  the 
burden  of  his  petition.  Whether  he  prayed  for  grace 
to  return  it,  or  for  forgiveness  for  having  taken  it, 
Millerstown  did  not  know,  so  confused  was  his 


KATY  GAUMER  51 

speech.  Alvin's  position  was  a  hard  one.  He  was 
humiliated  by  the  taunts  of  the  Millerstown  boys; 
he  hated  the  poverty  of  his  life ;  he  was  certain  that 
never  had  human  being  been  so  miserable. 

Early  on  Christmas  morning  the  two  had  had 
their  breakfast  together  in  the  kitchen  of  the  little 
white  house  where  they  lived,  and  there  Alvin  had 
made  an  astonishing  request.  Alvin  was  fond  of  fine 
clothes;  there  was  a  certain  red  tie  in  the  village 
store  at  which  he  had  looked  longingly  for  days. 
Alvin  was  given  to  picturing  himself,  as  Katy  Gau- 
mer  pictured  herself,  in  conspicuous  and  important 
positions  in  the  eyes  of  men.  Alvin 's  coveted  dis 
tinction,  however,  was  of  fine  apparel,  and  not  of 
superior  education.  He  liked  to  be  clean  and  tidy; 
he  disliked  rough  play  and  rough  work  which  dis 
arranged  his  clothes  and  soiled  his  hands. 

"Ach,  pop,"  he  begged,  "give  me  a  Christmas 
present!"  His  eyes  filled  with  tears,  he  had  been 
cruelly  disappointed  because  he  had  found  no  way 
to  get  the  tie  in  time  for  the  Christmas  entertain 
ment.  "Everybody  has  a  Christmas  present ! " 

"A  Christmas  present! "  repeated  William  Koeh- 
ler,  his  quick,  darting  eyes  shining  with  amazement. 
His  were  not  mean  features ;  he  had  the  mouth  of  a 
generous  man,  and  his  eyes  were  full  and  round. 
But  between  his  brows  lay  a  deep  depression,  as 
though  experience  had  moulded  his  forehead  into 
a  shape  for  which  nature  had  not  intended  it.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  that  deep  wrinkle,  one  would  have 


52  KATY  GAUMER 

said  that  he  was  a  gentle,  kindly,  humorous  soul. 
"A  Christmas  present!"  said  he  again. 

Without  making  any  further  answer,  he  rose  and 
went  out  the  kitchen  door  and  down  the  board  walk 
toward  the  chicken  house.  He  repeated  the  mon 
strous  request  again  and  again,  like  a  person  of 
simple  mind. 

"A  Christmas  present!  He  asks  me  for  a  Christ 
mas  present!" 

When  he  reached  the  chicken  house,  he  stood  still, 
leaning  against  the  fence.  The  chickens  clustered 
about  him  with  crowings  and  squawkings,  some  fly 
ing  to  his  shoulders.  Birds  and  beasts  and  insects 
loved  and  trusted  poor  William  if  human  beings  did 
not.  It  was  possible  for  him  to  go  about  among  his 
bees  and  handle  them  as  he  would  without  fear  of 
stings. 

Now  he  paid  no  heed  to  the  flapping,  eager  fowl, 
except  to  thrust  them  away  from  him.  He  stood 
leaning  against  the  fence  and  looking  down  upon 
the  gray  landscape.  It  was  not  yet  quite  daylight 
and  the  morning  was  cloudy.  The  depression  in  his 
forehead  deepened;  he  was  looking  fixedly  at  one 
spot,  John  Hartman's  house,  as  though  he  had  never 
seen  it  before,  or  as  though  he  meant  to  fix  it  in  his 
mind  forever. 

The  Hartman  house  was  always  there.  He  had 
seen  it  a  thousand  times,  would  see  it  a  thousand 
times  more.  On  moonlight  nights,  its  wide  roofs 
glittered,  on  dark  nights  a  gleaming  lamp  set  on  a 


KATY  GAUMER  53 

post  before  the  door  fixed  it  in  place.  In  winter  its 
light  and  its  great  bulk,  in  summer  its  girdle  of  trees, 
distinguished  it  from  all  the  other  houses  in  Millers- 
town.  William  Koehler  could  see  it  from  every  foot 
of  his  little  house  and  garden.  It  was  before  his  eyes 
when  he  worked  among  his  plants,  which  seemed 
to  love  him  also,  and  when  he  sat  for  a  few  minutes 
on  his  porch,  and  when  he  tended  his  bees  or  fed  his 
chickens. 

Beyond  the  Hartman  house  he  did  not  look.  There 
the  country  spread  out  in  a  wide,  cultivated,  vari 
colored  plain,  with  the  mountains  bounding  it  far 
away.  To  the  right  of  the  village  was  the  little  ceme 
tery  where  his  wife  lay  buried,  and  near  it  the  Lu 
theran  church  to  which  they  had  both  belonged,  but 
he  glanced  at  neither.  Sometimes  he  could  see  John 
Hartman  helping  his  wife  from  the  carriage  when 
they  returned  from  church,  or  stamping  the  snow 
from  his  feet  before  he  stepped  into  his  buggy  in  the 
stable  yard.  Often,  at  this  sight,  when  there  was 
no  one  within  hearing,  William  waved  his  arms  and 
shouted,  as  though  nothing  but  a  wild  sound  could 
express  his  emotion.  He  was  not  entirely  free  from 
the  superstitions  in  which  Bevy  and  many  other 
Millerstonians  believed,  superstitions  long  since 
seared  upon  the  souls  of  a  persecuted  generation  in 
the  fatherland.  He  recited  the  strange  verse,  sup 
posed  to  ward  away  evil,  — 

"Dulix,  ix,  ux, 

Thou  comest  not  over  Pontio, 
Pontio  is  over  Pilato! "  — 


54  KATY  GAUMER 

and  he  carried  about  with  him  a  little  spray  of  five- 
finger  grass  as  a  charm. 

When  John  Hartman  drove  along  the  mountain 
road,  his  broad  shoulders  almost  filling  his  buggy, 
William  had  more  than  once  shouted  an  insane  ac 
cusation  at  him.  This  Millerstown  did  not  know. 
Koehler  never  spoke  thus  unless  they  were  alone, 
and  Hartman  told  no  one  of  the  encounter.  One  is 
not  likely  to  tell  the  world  that  he  has  been  ac 
cused  of  stealing,  even  though  the  accuser  is  himself 
known  to  be  a  madman  and  a  thief.  But  John  Hart 
man  came  presently  to  avoid  the  mountain  road. 
IE-  After  a  while  William  roused  himself  and  fed  his 
chickens  and  looked  once  more  at  the  house  of  John 
Hartman.  There  was  smoke  rising  from  the  chimney, 
and  tears  came  into  William's  eyes,  as  though  the 
smoke  had  drifted  across  the  fields  and  had  blinded 
him.  Suddenly  he  struck  the  sharp  paling  a  blow  with 
his  hard  hand  and  spoke  aloud,  not  with  his  usual 
faltering  and  mumbling  tongue,  but  clearly  and 
straightforwardly.  William  had  found  a  help  and  a 
defense. 

"I  will  tell  him!"  cried  he.  "This  day  I  will  tell 
my  son,  Alvin!" 

All  the  long,  snowy  Christmas  morning,  Alvin  sat 
about  the  house.  He  did  not  read  because  he  had  no 
books,  and  besides,  he  did  not  care  much  for  books. 
Alvin  was  a  very  handsome  boy,  but  he  did  not  have 
much  mind.  He  did  not  sing  or  whistle  on  this  Christ 
mas  morning  because  he  was  not  cheerful;  he  did 


KATY  GAUMER  55 

not  whittle  because  whittling  would  have  wasted 
both  knife  and  stick,  and  his  father  would  have  re 
proved  him.  He  did  not  walk  out  because  he  was  not 
an  active  boy  like  David  Hartman,  and  he  did  not 
visit  because  he  was  not  liked  in  Millerstown.  He 
did  not  take  a  boy 's  part  in  the  games ;  he  was  afraid 
to  swim  and  dive ;  he  whined  when  he  was  hurt. 

He  looked  out  the  window  toward  the  Hartman 
house  with  a  vague  envy  of  David,  who  had  so  much 
while  he  had  so  little.  He  watched  his  father's 
parsimonious  preparation  of  the  simple  meal  — 
how  Grandmother  Gaumer  and  Bevy  Schnepp 
would  have  exclaimed  at  a  Christmas  dinner  of 
butcher's  ham ! 

"Oh,  the  poor  souls!"  Grandmother  Gaumer 
would  have  cried.  "I  might  easily  have  invited 
them  to  us  to  eat!" 

"Where  does  the  money  go,  then?"  Bevy  would 
have  demanded.  "He  surely  earns  enough  to  have 
anyhow  a  chicken  on  Christmas !  Where  does  he  put 
his  money?  No  sugar  in  the  coffee!  Just  potatoes 
fried  in  ham  fat  for  vegetables!" 

All  the  long  afternoon,  also,  Alvin  sat  about  the 
house.  He  did  not  think  again  of  the  Hartmans;  he 
did  not  think  of  Katy  Gaumer,  who  thought  so  fre 
quently  of  him ;  he  thought  of  the  red  tie  and  wished 
that  he  had  money  to  buy  it. 

All  the  long  afternoon  his  father  huddled  close 
to  the  other  side  of  the  stove  and  muttered  to  him 
self  as  though  he  were  preparing  whatever  he  meant 


56  KATY  GAUMER 

to  tell  Alvin.  It  must  be  either  a  very  puzzling  or  a 
very  long  story,  or  one  which  required  careful  re 
hearsing.  When  the  sun,  setting  in  a  clear  sky,  had 
touched  the  top  of  a  mountain  far  across  the  plain, 
he  began  to  speak  suddenly,  as  though  he  had  given 
to  himself  the  departure  of  day  for  a  signal.  He 
did  not  make  an  elaborate  account  of  the  strange 
events  he  had  to  relate;  on  the  contrary,  he  could 
hardly  have  omitted  a  word  and  have  had  his  mean 
ing  clear.  He  said  little  of  Alvin's  mother;  he  drew 
no  deductions ;  he  simply  told  the  story. 

"  Alvin !"  cried  he,  sharply. 

Alvin  looked  up.  His  head  had  sunk  on  his  breast ; 
he  was  at  this  moment  half  asleep.  He  was  startled 
not  alone  by  the  tone  of  his  father's  voice,  but  by 
his  father's  straightened  shoulders,  by  his  piercing 
glance. 

"I  am  going  to  tell  you  something!" 

Alvin  looked  at  his  father  a  little  eagerly.  Perhaps 
his  father  was  going  to  give  him  a  present,  after  all. 
It  would  take  only  a  quarter  to  buy  the  red  tie.  But 
it  was  a  very  different  announcement  which  William 
had  to  make.  He  began  with  an  alarming  state 
ment. 

"After  school  closes  you  are  to  work  at  the  fur 
nace.  I  let  you  do  nothing  too  long  already,  Alvin ! " 

"At  the  furnace!"  Alvin's  astonishment  and 
alarm  made  him  cry  out.  He  hated  the  sight  of 
Oliver  Kuhns  and  Billy  Knerr  when  they  came 
home  all  grimy  and  black. 


KATY  GAUMER  57 

11 1  will  tell  you  something,"  said  his  father  again. 
"Listen  good,  Alvin!" 

Alvin  needed  no  such  command  to  make  him 
hearken.  Alvin  had  not  much  will,  but  he  was  deter 
mining  with  all  his  power  that  he  would  never,  never 
work  in  the  furnace.  He  did  not  observe  how  his 
father's  cheeks  had  paled  above  his  black  beard, 
and  how  steadily  he  kept  his  eyes  upon  his  son.  The 
story  William  had  to  tell  was  not  that  of  a  man 
whose  mind  was  gone. 

"You  know  the  church?"  said  William. 

"Of  course." 

"  I  mean  the  Lutheran  church  where  I  used  to  go, 
where  my  pop  went." 

"Yes." 

"You  go  in  at  the  front  of  the  church,  but  the 
pulpit  is  at  the  other  end.  There  were  once  long  ago 
two  windows,  one  on  each  side  of  the  pulpit.  They 
went  almost  down  to  the  floor.  From  there  the  sun 
shone  in  the  people's  eyes.  You  can't  remember 
that,  Alvin.  That  was  before  your  time." 

Alvin  sat  still,  sullenly.  This  conversation  was, 
after  all,  only  of  a  piece  with  his  father's  strange 
mutterings ;  it  had  to  do  with  no  red  necktie. 

"But  now  the  Sunday  School  is  there  and  those 
windows  are  gone  this  long  time.  One  is  a  door  into 
the  Sunday  School,  the  other  is  a  wall.  I  built  that 
wall,  Alvin." 

William  paused  as  though  for  some  comment, 
but  Alvin  said  nothing. 


58  KATY  GAUMER 

"  I  was  sitting  where  I  am  sitting  now  one  evening 
and  she  [his  wife]  was  sitting  where  you  are  sitting 
and  you  were  running  round,  and  the  preacher 
climbed  the  hill  to  us  and  he  came  in  and  he  said  to 
me,  'William/  he  said,  'it  is  decided  that  the  big 
window  is  to  be  walled  up.  When  can  you  do  it?' 
That  was  the  way  he  said  it,  Alvin.  I  said  to  him, 
'I  can  do  it  to-morrow.  I  had  other  work  for  the 
afternoon  at  Zion  Church,  but  I  can  put  it  off.' 
She  could  have  told  you  that  that  was  just  what  he 
said  and  what  I  said.  I  was  in  the  congregation  and 
there  was  at  that  time  no  other  mason  but  me  in 
Millerstown.  It  was  to  be  made  all  smooth,  so  that 
nobody  could  ever  tell  there  was  a  window  there. 
Then  the  preacher,  he  said  to  me,  —  she  could  tell 
you  that,  too,  if  she  were  here,  —  he  said,  '  Come  in 
the  morning  and  I  will  give  you  the  key  of  the  com 
munion  cupboard,'  the  little  cupboard  in  the  wall, 
Alvin.  There  the  communion  set  was  kept.  It  was 
silver,  real  silver,  all  shiny."  William's  hands  began 
to  tremble  and  he  moistened  his  dry  lips.  William 
spoke  of  objects  which  were  to  him  manifestly  holy. 
His  son  bent  his  head  now,  not  idly  and  indifferently, 
but  stubbornly.  He  remembered  the  names  which 
the  boys  had  shouted  at  his  father;  with  all  his  soul 
he  recoiled  from  hearing  his  father's  confession. 
"There  was  a  silver  pitcher,  so  high,  and  a  silver 
plate  and  a  silver  cup  on  a  stem  like  a  goblet.  The 
preacher  put  it  away  there  and  he  locked  the  door 
always. 


KATY  GAUMER  59 

"  But  he  gave  me  the  key  and  I  went  to  my  work. 
I  thought  once  I  would  have  to  open  the  door  and 
I  stuck  the  key  in  the  lock.  It  was  a  funny  key. 

"But  I  didn't  need  to  open  the  door.  I  took 
my  dinner  along  —  she  could  tell  you  that.  But  I 
did  n't  need  to  open  the  door,  and  I  took  the  key 
out  again  and  put  it  in  my  pocket,  and  when  I 
finished  I  swept  everything  up  nice  and  locked  the 
church  door  and  came  down  the  pike.  It  was  night 
already  and  I  went  to  the  preacher  and  gave  him  the 
two  keys,  the  church  key  and  the  other,  and  got  my 
money.  That  quick  he  paid  me,  Alvin.  He  said  to 
me,  'Well,  I  guess  you  had  a  quiet  day,  William/ 
and  I  said,  'Yes,  nobody  looked  in  at  me  but  a  little 
one.'  That  is  what  I  said  to  the  preacher  then,  Alvin, 
exactly  that,  but  it  was  not  true.  But  I  thought  it 
was  true. 

"Then  I  came  home  and  I  told  her  how  nice  and 
smooth  I  had  made  it  —  to  this  day,  you  cannot  see 
it  was  a  window  there.  Now,  listen,  Alvin!" 

The  sunset  sky  was  darkening,  a  rising  wind  rattled 
the  door  in  its  latch.  The  little  house  was  lonely  on 
a  winter  night,  even  a  bright  night  like  this.  The  boy 
began  to  be  frightened,  his  father  looked  at  him 
with  such  dagger-like  keenness. 

"So  it  went  for  three  weeks,  Alvin,  and  then  it 
was  Sunday  morning  and  here  I  sat  and  there  she 
sat  and  you  were  running  round,  and  it  came  a  knock 
at  the  door  and  there  was  the  preacher.  I  was  study 
ing  my  lesson  for  the  Sunday  School.  It  was  about 


60  KATY  GAUMER 

Ananias.  I  had  learned  the  answers  and  the  Golden 
Text,  but  it  was  not  yet  time  to  go.  I  always  went 
to  church;  I  liked  to  go  to  church.  Then  there  came 
this  knocking,  Alvin,  and  it  was  the  preacher.  I 
thought  perhaps  he  had  come  to  give  her  the  com 
munion  while  she  was  n't  very  well  and  could  n't 
go  down  through  the  snow.  The  preacher  came  in 
and  he  looked  at  me. 

"'William,'  said  the  preacher  to  me,  'do  you 
remember  how  I  gave  you  the  key  to  the  cupboard 
when  you  fixed  the  wall?' 

"'Why,  yes,'  I  said.    'Of  course!' 

"  'William,'  said  he  to  me,  'did  you  open  the  cup 
board?' 

'"Why,  no,'  I  said.  'I  didn't  have  to,  Para 
[Pastor].' 

"'Were  you  away  from  the  church?' 

" '  No,'  I  said.  '  I  took  my  dinner.  She  can  tell  you 
that.' 

'"Why,  William,'  said  he  to  me,  'the  communion 
set  is  gone!  The  communion  set  is  gone,'  he  said, 
' gone ! ' 

"I  went  with  him  to  the  church,  Alvin,  and  I 
looked  into  the  cupboard.  Everything  was  gone, 
Alvin,  bag  and  all.  Then  I  came  home  and  after  a 
while  they  came.  They  wanted  to  talk,  they  wanted 
me  to  tell  them  everything  that  had  happened  all 
day.  But  I  could  n't  tell  them  anything.  I  had  built 
the  wall  and  a  little  one  had  talked  to  me,  that  was 
all.  There  she  sat  and  here  I  sat  and  it  was  dark. 


KATY  GAUMER  61 

Then,  Alvin,  it  came  to  me!  When  I  got  halfway 
up  the  window,  it  was  too  high  to  go  farther,  and  I 
went  out  of  the  church  to  get  boards  and  build  a 
platform  across  chairs  so  that  I  could  reach.  I  was 
gone  some  little  time,  and  when  I  came  back  Hart- 
man  was  going  down  the  pike.  It  was  Hartman 
that  took  the  communion  set." 

Alvin  moved  toward  the  side  of  his  chair,  and 
away  from  his  father. 

"Then  I  got  up  and  went  down  the  hill,  and  into 
Hartman's  house  I  walked.  He  was  sitting  by  the 
table  with  his  best  clothes  on  to  go  to  church  and 
she  was  there,  too.  They  were  always  rich;  they 
had  everything  grand.  I  made  tracks  on  her  clean 
floor,  and  she  looked  sharp  at  me,  but  I  did  not  care. 
I  spoke  right  up  to  him. 

"'When  I  was  building  the  wall  in  the  church/  I 
said,  '  I  went  out  for  a  few  boards.  In  that  time  you 
were  in  the  church  and  took  the  communion  set.' 

"He  did  not  look  at  me,  Alvin;  he  just  sat  there. 
"What  would  I  do  with  a  communion  set?'  he 
said  after  a  while  to  me. 

"I  do  not  know  what  you  would  do  with  it,'  I 
said  back  to  him,  'but  you  have  it.  You  took  it. 
God  will  punish  you  like  Ananias.' 

"Then,  Alvin —  "  William  laid  a  hand  on  his 
son's  shrinking  arm.  "  He  went  to  the  preacher,  and 
the  preacher  came  to  me  and  said  I  must  be  quiet. 
That  the  preacher  said  to  me!  Then  I  went  to 
church  and  prayed  out  loud  before  all  the  people 


62  KATY  GAUMER 

that  God  would  punish  the  wicked.  I  did  not  men 
tion  any  names,  Alvin;  I  obeyed  the  preacher  in 
that!  But  God  did  not  punish  him.  Everything 
gets  better  and  better  for  him  all  the  time.  Now,  I 
will  punish  him,  Alvin,  and  you  will  help  me.  I  have 
paid  a  lot  to  detectives,  but  I  have  not  yet  enough. 
He  must  be  watched ;  we  must  have  proof.  I  cannot 
save  so  much  any  more  because  I  have  not  so  much 
work.  Now,  if  you  work  at  the  furnace  you  will  make 
a  dollar  a  day.  It  will  take  all  we  can  earn,  Alvin, 
all.  I  did  without  things  that  I  need;  I  have  saved 
all  I  can,  but  I  cannot  save  enough." 

William  broke  off  suddenly.  The  room  was  quite 
dark;  where  no  light  was  needed,  none  was  made  in 
William  Koehler's  house.  William  rose  and  went 
stumbling  about  and  lit  the  lamp,  the  lamp  which 
Katy  saw  gleaming  against  the  dark  side  of  the 
mountain.  In  its  light  poor  William  gazed  at  his 
son  with  yearning.  He  seemed  now  perfectly  sane. 

Then  William  spoke  in  a  hollow,  astonished 
voice,  the  lamp  rattling  in  his  hand. 

"Don't  you  believe  he  took  it,  Alvin?" 

"Why,  no,"  stammered  Alvin.  "What  would  he 
want  with  it?". 


CHAPTER  V 

ANOTHER  CHRISTMAS  DAY 

IN  the  Hartman  house  on  Christmas  Day  there  was 
feasting,  but  no  rejoicing.  Cassie  Hartman  was  fully 
as  able  a  cook  as  Grandmother  Gaumer,  and  she 
roasted  as  large  a  turkey  and  prepared  almost  as 
many  delicacies  as  Grandmother  Gaumer  and  Bevy 
Schnepp  prepared  for  their  great  party.  On  the 
kitchen  settle  were  gifts,  a  gold  breastpin  set  with  a 
handsome  diamond,  a  heavy  gold  watch-chain,  a 
boy's  suit,  a  gun,  and  a  five-dollar  gold-piece.  There 
were  on  them  no  affectionate  inscriptions,  no  good 
wishes.  The  breastpin  was  for  Cassie,  the  watch- 
chain  for  John  Hartman,  the  other  articles  for  David. 
There  were  no  gifts  from  outsiders  —  few  Millers- 
tonians  would  have  ventured  to  offer  gifts  to  the 
rich  Hartmans.  In  the  parlor  windows  hung  holly 
wreaths,  the  only  bought  wreaths  in  Millerstown. 
The  Hartmans  had  asked  no  guests  to  their  feast. 
John  had  long  since  separated  himself  from  the 
friends  of  his  youth ;  as  for  Cassie,  the  thought  of  the 
footprints  of  Christmas  guests  on  her  flag  walk  and 
her  carefully  scrubbed  porches  would  have  made  the 
day  even  more  uncomfortable  than  it  was.  More 
over,  one  could  not  entertain  Christmas  company  in 
the  kitchen,  however  fine  that  kitchen  might  be,  and 


64  KATY  GAUMER 

in  this  wintry  weather  fires  would  have  to  be  made 
in  the  parlor  and  the  dining-room. 

"Company  would  track  dust  so  for  me,"  Cassie 
would  have  said  if  any  one  had  suggested  that  some 
companions  of  his  own  age  might  do  David  good 
and  might  not  be  a  bad  thing  for  his  elders.  "  When 
you  have  fires,  you  have  ashes,  and  I  would  then 
have  to  clean  my  house  in  the  middle  of  winter  when 
you  cannot  clean  the  carpets  right. " 

Cassie  Hartman  was  a  beautiful  woman,  how 
beautiful  Millers  town,  which  set  a  higher  value  upon 
mere  prettiness  than  upon  beauty,  did  not  know. 
Her  figure  was  tall  and  full  and  she  bore  herself  with 
grace  and  dignity.  Her  face  with  its  even  features 
and  its  full  gray  eyes  was  the  face  of  an  austere 
saint,  although  her  eyes,  lifting  when  you  addressed 
her,  seemed  rather  to  hide  her  real  character  than 
reveal  it.  But  her  character  was  austere  and  re 
served,  of  that  you  were  sure. 

If  Cassie's  soul  was  a  consecrated  one,  the  gods  to 
whom  one  would  have  assigned  her  worship  were 
Cleanliness  and  Order.  The  very  progress  of  her 
husband  and  son  about  the  house  annoyed  her  be 
cause  it  was  masculine  and  untidy.  David  knew 
better  than  to  enter  the  kitchen  with  muddy  shoes, 
but  his  father  was  not  so  careful;  therefore  both 
trod  upon  an  upper  layer  of  slightly  worn  rag  car 
pet,  superimposed  upon  the  bright  and  immaculate 
lower  layer.  In  all  other  details  but  one  of  the 
management  of  her  house  Cassie  had  her  way.  Her 


KATY  GAUMER  65 

husband  refused  stubbornly  to  leave  the  great  wal 
nut  bed  and  the  large  room  in  which  he  slept  for 
a  smaller  room  at  the  back  of  the  house,  as  Cassie 
wished,  so  that  the  great  best  bedrooms  might  be 
garnished  day  and  night  with  their  proper  spreads 
and  counterpanes  and  shams. 

Each  of  Cassie's  days  and  hours  had  its  appointed 
task.  She  could  have  told  how  her  time  would  be 
spent  from  now  on  until  the  last  hour  before  her  pass 
ing,  when  the  preacher  would  come  in  the  proper 
Lutheran  fashion  to  give  her  the  communion.  The 
Church  required  no  such  ceremony,  but  Cassie  was 
a  formalist  in  religion  and  required  it  for  herself. 

So  the  three  Hartmans  ate  alone  in  their  broad 
kitchen,  John  Hartman  at  one  end  of  the  table, 
Cassie  far  away  at  the  other,  and  David  midway  be 
tween  them.  John  Hartman 's  eyes  were  hardly 
lifted  above  his  food ;  he  was  an  intolerably  silent 
person.  Cassie's  eyes  roved  everywhere,  from  her 
stove,  which  she  could  scarcely  wait  to  blacken, 
toward  her  husband  who  ate  carelessly,  and  toward 
her  son,  who  devoured  his  drumstick  with  due  regard 
for  the  clean  cloth.  The  cloth  was  spotless  and  would 
probably  remain  spotless,  for  an  extra  white  cover 
had  been  laid  beneath  the  plates  of  John  and  David. 
But  to-morrow  it  would  go  into  the  tub,  none  the 
less.  It  was  too  good  to  be  used  every  day,  and 
it  could  not  be  put  away  bearing  even  the  slight 
wrinkles  produced  by  unfolding.  Cassie  had  no 
more  to  say  than  her  husband.  There  was  really 


66  KATY  GAUMER 

nothing  for  Cassie  to  say.  Her  mental  processes 
involved  herself  and  her  house,  they  responded  to  no 
inspiration  from  without. 

As  for  little  David,  he  said  nothing  either.  Katy 
Gaumer  had  been  right  when  she  said  that  David  was 
a  cross  boy.  David  was  cross  and  sullen.  To-day, 
however,  he  was  only  solemn.  David  was  deeply 
concerned  about  his  sins.  He  was  not  only  a  sinner 
in  general,  but  he  had  sinned  in  a  very  particular 
way,  and  he  was  unhappy.  The  turkey  did  not  taste 
as  a  Christmas  turkey  should,  and  his  second  slice  of 
mince-pie  was  bitter. 

When  John  Hartman  had  eaten  all  he  could,  he 
rose  and  put  on  his  coat  and  went  out  to  his  great 
barn  to  feed  his  stock.  He  went  silently,  as  was  his 
wont. 

When  David  had  finished  the  last  morsel  of  pie 
which  he  was  able  to  swallow,  he,  too,  put  on  his  hat 
and  went  toward  the  door,  moving  silently  and 
slouchingly .  There  he  stood  and  nervously  kicked  the 
sill.  His  eyes,  gray  like  his  mother's,  looked  out  from 
under  frowning,  knitted  brows ;  he  thrust  his  hands 
deep  into  his  pockets  and  looked  down  at  the  floor. 
This  was  Christmas  Day;  his  parents  had  treated 
him  generously;  he  was  convinced  that  he  ought  to 
confess  to  them  his  great  wickedness.  He  felt  as 
though  he  might  cry,  and  as  though  crying,  if  he 
had  a  shoulder  to  lean  on,  would  be  a  soothing  and 
healing  operation.  The  assault  of  Katy  Gaumer  had 
sunk  deep  into  his  heart,  as  was  natural  since  he 


KATY  GAUMER  67 

thought  of  Katy  night  and  day,  since  he  saw  her 
wherever  she  went  in  her  red  dress,  now  scolding, 
now  laughing,  and  perpetually  in  motion.  He  had 
fled  to  the  attic  of  the  schoolroom  yesterday  because 
she  had  not  spoken  to  him  or  looked  at  him,  had  even 
passed  him  with  her  weight  planted  for  an  instant 
heavily  on  his  foot  without  even  acknowledging  his 
presence.  And  to  the  attic  she  had  followed  him  and 
had  there  taunted  and  insulted  him!  She  had  no 
business  to  say  that  he  was  cross  and  ugly ;  he  would 
be  nice  enough  to  her  if  she  would  return  the  com 
pliment.  As  for  Grandmother  Gaumer's  cakes,  he 
had  better  cakes  at  home  than  Grandmother  Gaumer 
could  bake! 

David's  heart  was  sore,  and  David  was  inexpress 
ibly  lonely  and  miserable.  He  was  now  certain  that 
he  would  be  happy  if  he  could  confess  his  sins  to  his 
mother. 

He  forgot  the  last  occasion  of  his  appeal  to  her. 
Then  his  finger  had  been  cut,  and  he  had  been  dizzy 
and  had  seized  hold  of  her,  and  the  blood  had  fallen 
down  on  her  new  silk  dress.  He  forgot  her  reproof; 
he  remembered  only  that  he  needed  some  sort  of 
human  tenderness.  His  father  did  not  often  speak 
to  him,  but  women  were  made,  or  should  be  made, 
of  different  stuff  from  men.  He  had  seen  Susannah 
Kuhns  sit  with  her  great  Ollie  upon  her  lap,  and 
Ollie  was  older  than  he  was  by  a  year.  He  had 
heard  Katy  Gaumer,  who  had  been  so  outrageously 
cruel  to  him,  cry  over  a  sick  kitten,  and  Katy  was 


68  KATY  GAUMER 

herself  often  rocked  like  a  baby  on  Grandmother 
Gaumer's  knee. 

David  forgot  now  not  only  the  cut  finger,  but 
other  repulses.  He  had  no  claim  on  Grandmother 
Gaumer's  embrace,  and  he  would  have  hated  to 
have  to  sit  on  Susannah  Kuhns's  knee,  but  upon 
this  tall,  beautiful  person  sitting  by  the  table,  he 
had  a  claim.  Moreover,  her  embraces  would  have 
been  pleasant. 

"Mom! "said  David. 

Cassie's  eyes  were  now  on  the  dishes  before  her. 
She  liked  to  plan  her  mode  of  attack  upon  a  piece  of 
work,  and  then  proceed  swiftly,  keeping  her  mind 
a  blank  to  everything  but  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
order  grow  where  disorder  had  been.  Thus  she  liked 
to  go  through  her  fine  house,  sweeping  the  rich 
carpets,  polishing  the  carved  furniture,  letting  the 
sunlight  in  only  long  enough  to  show  each  infamous 
dust  mote.  Cassie  was  in  the  midst  of  such  planning 
now;  she  saw  the  dishes  neatly  piled,  the  hot  suds 
in  the  pan,  her  sleeves  rolled  above  her  elbows.  She 
did  not  answer  David,  did  not  even  hear  him. 

"  Mom ! "  said  David  again.  He  did  not  know  now 
exactly  what  he  had  meant  to  say.  The  necessity 
for  confession  had  dwindled  to  a  necessity  for  the 
sound  of  his  mother's  voice.  It  was  dismal  to  live 
in  a  house  with  companions  who  seemed  deaf  and 
blind  to  one's  existence.  She  must  speak  to  him ! 

At  the  second  call,  Cassie  looked  at  her  son. 
Cassie  recognized  dirt  and  disorder,  but  she  did 


KATY  GAUMER  69 

not  recognize  any  need  of  the  human  soul.  The  needs 
of  her  own  soul  had  been,  Cassie  thought,  cruelly 
denied.  At  any  rate,  its  power  of  perception  had 
failed. 

"You  stamp  on  that  sill  again  and  I'll  have  to 
scrub  it,  David!  To  spoil  things  on  Christmas!" 

Cassie's  voice  contained  no  threat  of  punishment ; 
it  was  merely  mildly  exclamatory.  The  tone  of  it 
was  not  vibrant  but  wooden.  It  might  have  been 
rich  and  beautiful  in  youth;  now  it  expressed  no 
emotion ;  it  was  flat,  empty.  She  did  not  ask  David 
what  he  wanted,  or  why  he  addressed  her;  she  did 
not  even  wonder  why  he  stopped  in  the  doorway  and 
stared  at  her.  She  only  frowned  at  him,  until  he 
closed  the  door,  himself  outside.  David  had  all  the 
clothes  he  could  wear,  all  the  food  he  could  eat;  he 
had  the  finest  house,  the  richest  father  and  the  most 
capable  mother  in  Millerstown ;  what  more  could  he 
wish  to  make  him  happy?  His  mother  did  not 
speculate  as  to  whether  he  was  happy  or  not. 

David  crossed  the  yard  in  the  freshly  fallen  snow 
and  slammed  the  gate  behind  him.  Then  he  went 
toward  the  mountain  road,  and  started  to  climb, 
passing  the  house  of  the  Koehlers,  where  William  sat 
on  one  side  of  the  stove  and  Alvin  on  the  other,  the 
one  muttering  to  himself,  the  other  half  asleep. 
David  kicked  the  snow  as  he  walked,  his  head  bent 
lower  and  lower  on  his  breast.  He  could  see  Katy 
Gaumer  like  a  sprite  in  her  red  dress  with  her  flash 
ing  eyes  and  her  pointing  finger;  he  could  see  her 


70  KATY  GAUMER 

smiling  at  Alvin  Koehler,  whom  he  hated  without 
dreaming  that  in  that  son  of  a  demented  and  dishon 
est  father  Katy  Gaumer  could  have  any  possible 
interest. 

As  he  started  up  the  steepest  part  of  the  hill,  he 
began  to  talk  aloud. 

"I  want  her!"  said  poor  little  David.  "I  want 
Katy!  I  want  Katy!" 

Presently  David  left  the  road,  and  climbing  over 
the  worm  fence  into  the  woodland,  struck  off  diag 
onally  among  the  trees.  Still  far  above  him,  at  the 
summit  of  the  little  mountain,  there  was  a  rough 
pile  of  rocks  which  formed  a  tiny  cairn  or  cave.  Be 
fore  it  was  a  small  platform,  parapeted  by  a  great 
boulder.  Generations  past  had  named  the  spot,  with 
out  any  apparent  reason,  the  "  Sheep  Stable."  It  was 
a  favorite  resort  of  David  Hartman.  Here,  in  secret, 
far  above  Millers  town,  he  carried  on  the  wicked 
practices  which  he  had  meant  to  confess  to  his 
mother.  From  the  little  plateau  one  could  look  for 
miles  and  miles  over  a  wide,  rich,  beautiful  plain, 
could  see  the  church  spires  of  a  dozen  villages,  the 
smoke  curling  upward  from  three  or  four  great  blast 
furnaces,  set  in  the  midst  of  wide  fields,  and  could 
look  far  beyond  the  range  of  hills  which  bounded 
the  view  of  William  Koehler  on  his  lower  level,  to 
another  range.  The  Pennsylvania  German  made  his 
home  only  in  fertile  spots.  When  other  settlers 
passed  the  thickly  forested  lands  because  of  the 
great  labor  of  felling  the  trees  and  preparing  the 


KATY  GAUMER  71 

soil,  he  selectecTthe  sections  bearing  the  tallest  trees 
and  had  as  his  own  the  fertile  land  forever. 

David  did  not  look  out  over  the  wide,  pure  ex 
panse  upon  which  a  few  flakes  were  still  falling  and 
beyond  which  the  sun  would  soon  sink  gorgeously, 
nor  did  he  see  the  purple  shadows  under  the  pine 
trees,  nor  observe  the  glancing  motions  of  a  squirrel, 
watching  him  from  a  bough  near  by.  He  determined, 
desperately,  firmly,  that  he  would  repent  no  more; 
he  would  now  return  to  his  evil  ways  and  get  from 
them  what  satisfaction  he  could. 

He  crept  on  hands  and  knees  into  the  little  cave 
and  felt  round  under  a  mass  of  dried  leaves  until  his 
hands  encountered  the  instruments  of  his  evil  prac 
tices.  Then  David  drew  them  forth,  a  stubby  pipe, 
which  he  had  smoked  once  and  which  had  made  him 
deathly  ill,  and  a  pack  of  cards,  about  whose  mys 
terious  and  delightful  use  he  knew  nothing.  He  sat 
with  them  in  his  hands  on  the  sloping  rock,  wishing, 
poor  little  David,  that  he  knew  how  to  be  wickeder 
than  he  was ! 

fe  Having  fed  his  stock,  John  Hartman  tramped  for 
a  little  while  round  his  fields  in  the  snow,  then  he 
returned  to  the  kitchen  and  sat  down  by  the  window 
with  a  newspaper.  Cassie  lay  asleep  on  the  settle. 
Custom  forbade  her  working  on  Christmas  Day,  and 
she  never  read,  even  the  almanac.  At  her,  her  hus 
band  looked  once  or  twice  inscrutably,  then  he  laid 
his  head  on  the  back  of  his  tall  chair  and  slept  also. 
It  was  a  scene  at  which  Katy  Gaumer  would  have 


72  KATY  GAUMER 

pointed  as  proof  of  the  unutterable  stupidity  of 
Millerstown. 

When  her  husband  slept,  Cassie  opened  her  eyes 
and  looked  at  him  with  as  steady  a  gaze  as  that  which 
he  had  bent  upon  her.  Her  mouth  set  itself  in  a  firm, 
straight  line,  her  eyes  deepened  and  darkened,  her 
hands,  folded  upon  her  breast,  grasped  her  flesh. 
Surely  between  these  two  was  some  great  barrier  of 
offense,  given  or  suffered,  of  strange,  wounded  pride, 
or  insufferable  humiliation !  Presently  Cassie's  lids 
fell ;  she  turned  her  cheek  against  the  hard  back  of 
the  old  settle  and  so  fell  asleep  also. 

John  Hartman  owned  four  farms  and  a  great 
stretch  of  woodland  and  a  granite  quarry  on  the  far 
side  of  the  mountain  and  two  farms  and  two  peach 
orchards  and  an  apple  orchard  on  this.  A  genera 
tion  ago  a  large  deposit  of  fine  iron  ore  had  been  dis 
covered  upon  a  tract  of  land  owned  by  his  father. 
The  deposit  was  not  confined  to  his  fields,  but  ex 
tended  to  the  lands  of  his  neighbors.  But  while  they 
sold  ore  and  spent  their  money,  John  Hartman's 
father,  as  shrewd  a  business  man  as  his  son,  sold  and 
saved,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  his  fortune.  In  a 
few  years  the  discovery  of  richer,  more  easily  mined 
deposits  in  the  West  and  the  cheap  importation  of 
foreign  ores  made  the  Millerstown  ore  for  the  time 
not  worth  the  mining.  Hartman  the  elder  then  cov 
ered  his  mine  breaches  and  planted  timber,  and  the 
growth  set  above  the  treasure  underground  was  now 
thick  and  valuable.  John  Hartman  was  also  a  di- 


KATY  GAUMER  73 

rector  in  a  county  bank ;  he  owned  the  finest,  largest 
house  in  Millerstown;  he  had  a  handsome  and  a 
capable  wife,  and  a  son  who  was  strong  in  body 
and  who  had  a  good  mind.  Apparently  his  position 
in  life  was  secure,  his  comfort  certain. 

John  Hartman,  however,  was  neither^comfortable 
nor  secure.  The  long-past  accusations  of  a  poor, 
half-crazed  workingman  filled  his  waking  hours 
with  apprehension  and  his  nights  with  remorse. 
Of  William  Koehler  and  his  accusation  John  Hart 
man  was  afraid,  for  William's  accusation  was,  at 
least  in  part,  true. 

John  Hartman  had  been  walking  away  from  the 
church  on  that  bright  November  day  years  ago,  when 
his  own  David  and  Alvin  Koehler  were  little  chil 
dren  and  Katy  Gaumer  not  much  more  than  a  baby. 
He  had  upon  him,  as  William  had  said,  an  air  of 
guilt;  he  had  refused  to  reply  to  William's  shouted 
greeting;  he  was  at  that  moment  rapidly  becoming, 
if  he  was  not  already,  what  William  called  him,  a 
thief. 

On  that  November  day,  a  little  while  before  Wil 
liam  had  shouted  at  him,  he  had  come  down  the 
pike  and  had  seen  William  leave  the  church  to  get 
the  boards  for  his  platform,  and  had  thereupon  en 
tered  the  church  with  no  other  impulse  than  the 
vague  motions  of  a  man  sick  at  heart.  A  sin  of  his 
earlier  youth  had  risen  suddenly  from  the  grave 
where  he  thought  it  buried,  and  now  confronted  him. 
In  his  pocket  lay  an  accusing,  threatening  letter, 


74  KATY  GAUMER 

written  with  pale  ink  upon  poor  paper  in  an  igno 
rant  way.  The  amount  of  money  which  it  demanded, 
large  as  it  was,  did  not  trouble  him,  since  he  was  al 
ready  possessor  of  his  inheritance  and  growing  daily 
richer;  it  was  the  horror  of  the  discovery  of  his  sin. 
Once  cured  of  his  obsession  he  had  become  a  devout 
man,  had  taken  pleasure  in  the  services  of  the  church 
of  his  fathers,  attending  all  her  meetings  and  con 
tributing  to  all  her  causes.  He  had  married  a  good 
woman  from  a  neighboring  village,  who  knew  noth 
ing  of  the  year  he  had  spent  away  from  Millers- 
town  ;  he  had  had  a  son ;  he  was  wholly  happy. 

He  had  gone  during  the  latter  part  of  the  year 
which  he  spent  away  from  home,  as  a  way  of  escaping 
from  himself,  to  Europe.  He  had  been  only  a  few 
weeks  ashore,  but  he  had  seen  during  that  time  civili 
zations  different  from  anything  he  had  dreamed  of. 
He  was  most  moved  by  great  churches  —  he  saw 
Notre  Dame  of  Amiens  and  Notre  Dame  of  Paris 

—  and  by  the  few  great  English  estates  of  which  he 
caught  glimpses  in  his  rapid  journey  to  Liverpool. 
That  was  the  way  a  man  should  live,  planted  in  one 
place,  like  a  great  oak  tree,  the  center  of  a  wide  group 

—  a  wife,  children,  dependents.  He  should  have  his 
garden,  his  woodland,  his  great  house,  his  stables, 
his  beautiful  horses;  he  should  pass  the  home  place 
on  to  a  son  who  would  perpetuate  his  name.   With 
such  a  home  and  with  a  worthy  church  to  worship  in, 
a  man  could  ask  for  nothing  else  in  the  world. 

Repentant,  healed,  John  Hartman  had  returned  to 


KATY  GAUMER  75 

Millerstown.  There  he  had  married  and  had  built 
his  house,  with  great  rooms  at  the  front  and  smaller 
rooms  at  the  back  for  the  servants  who  should  make 
his  wife's  life  easy  and  dignified  and  should  help  to 
care  for  the  little  brothers  and  sisters  whom  David 
was  to  have.  Cassie  had  had  a  hard  youth;  her 
father  had  been  a  disgrace  to  his  children ;  she  was 
quiet  and  stern  and  not  hopeful,  even  though  John 
Hartman  had  lifted  her  to  so  high  a  place,  of  very 
great  happiness  in  this  life.  But  Cassie's  nature  had 
seemed  to  change  in  the  glow  of  John  Hartman 's 
affection  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  luxuries  with 
which  he  surrounded  her.  She  became  less  silent ;  she 
met  her  husband  at  times  with  a  voluntary  caress, 
which  opened  in  his  heart  new  springs  of  happiness. 

But  here,  into  this  blessed  peace  and  security,  into 
this  great  planning,  fell,  like  a  dangerous  explosive, 
the  threatening  letter.  Almost  beside  himself  with 
fright,  worn  with  three  nights'  sleepless  vigil,  con 
fused  with  the  numerous  plans  for  ridding  himself 
of  his  persecutor  which  he  made  only  to  reject,  and 
aware  that  an  immediate  answer  must  be  sent,  John 
Hartman  approached  the  church  where  William 
Koehler  had  been  working. 

The  open  door  seemed  to  invite  him  to  take  refuge 
within.  He  kept  constantly  touching  the  letter  in  his 
pocket.  He  meant  to  destroy  it,  but  it  bore  an  ad 
dress  which  he  dared  not  lose.  He  had  been  sitting 
by  the  roadside  on  a  fallen  log,  holding  the  letter 
in  his  hand  and  writing  absent-mindedly  upon  it.  < 


76  KATY  GAUMER 

In  the  church  he  saw  William's  half-finished  work 
and  the  curious  key  in  the  little  cupboard.  As  an 
elder,  he  had  a  right  to  open  the  door  and  to  take 
out  the  beautiful  silver  vessels,  the  extravagance  of 
one  generation  which  had  become  the  pride  of  the 
next.  It  seemed  for  an  instant  as  though  a  touch 
of  the  holy  things  might  give  him  peace.  Untying 
the  cord  of  the  heavy  bag  as  he  laid  it  on  top  of 
William's  half -finished  wall,  he  lifted  out  the  silver 
chalice. 

But  the  sight  of  the  beautiful  vessel  gave  him  no 
relief,  and  the  cool,  smooth  surface  made  him  shiver. 
He  grasped  it  suddenly  and  involuntarily  cried  out, 
"Oh,  what  shall  I  do!  What  shall  I  do!" 

The  grip  of  his  hand  was  so  strong  that  the  cup 
slipped  from  his  fingers  and  striking  the  top  of  Wil 
liam's  wall,  bounded  into  the  dark  aperture  which 
the  building  of  the  wall  had  made.  He  reached  fran 
tically  after  it,  and  the  gray  bag,  containing  the 
pitcher  and  paten,  struck  by  his  elbow,  followed  the 
silver  cup. 

For  an  instant  the  accident  drove  the  more  serious 
trouble  from  John  Hartman's  mind.  He  had  great 
reverence  for  the  sacred  vessels  and  he  was  afraid 
that  the  fall  had  bruised  their  beautiful  surfaces.  He 
tried  to  reach  the  bag,  which  lay  uppermost,  but  itwas 
just  beyond  the  tips  of  his  fingers  at  the  longest  reach 
of  his  arm.  He  would  have  to  get  William  Koehler  to 
help  him,  much  as  he  disliked  to  confess  to  such  care 
lessness.  William  would  be  shocked  and  horrified. 


KATY  GAUMER  77 

Then,  suddenly,  John  Hartman  gave  a  sharp  cry. 
In  his  struggle  to  reach  the  gray  bag,  the  letter  had 
dropped  from  his  pocket.  He  had  not  put  it  back 
into  its  envelope  after  his  last  anguished  reading ;  he 
could  see  it  now  as  it  lay  spread  out  below  him  in  the 
darkness.  His  frantic  eyes  seemed  to  read  each  word 
on  the  dim  page.  "  Your  wife  will  know  about  it,  and 
your  little  boy  and  all  the  country."  If  he  called 
William  to  help  him,  William  might  read  the  letter. 
Even  if  William  made  no  actual  effort  to  decipher 
it,  a  single  glance  might  reveal  that  some  one  was 
threatening  John  Hartman. 

He  thought  that  he  heard  William  coming  through 
the  new  Sunday  School  room  and  in  panic,  and  with 
out  stopping  to  reason  beyond  the  swift  conclusion 
that  if  William's  attention  were  not  called  to  them, 
he  would  not  see  the  bag  and  the  letter  far  down  in 
the  narrow  pit,  he  turned  and  locked  the  cupboard 
door  and  went  out  the  door  of  the  church  and  down 
the  road.  He  did  not  reflect  that  William  might 
easily  discover  that  the  communion  set  was  gone, 
that  he  might  accidentally  drop  his  trowel  into  the 
deep  hole  and  in  reaching  it  find  the  dreadful  letter, 
and  that  he  might  give  an  alarm,  and  all  be  lost;  his 
only  thought  was  to  get  away. 

He  remembered  dimly  that  he  had  brushed  aside 
a  little  child  in  his  rush  to  the  church  door.  When 
he  reached  the  door,  he  held  himself  back  from  run 
ning  by  a  mighty  effort  and  walked  slowly  down  the 
pike,  little  Katy  Gaumer  toddling  fearfully  behind 


78  KATY  GAUMER 

him.  It  was  easy  to  pretend  that  he  did  not  hear 
William  call.  Already  he  had  planned  how  he  would 
restore  the  silver  to  its  place.  He  knew  that  William 
was  engaged  that  afternoon  to  work  at  Zion  Church ; 
therefore  the  wall  would  not  be  closed  that  day. 

At  night  he  would  go  to  the  church  with  a  hoe  or 
rake  and  lift  out  the  sacred  vessels  and  the  dread 
ful  letter,  whose  very  proximity  to  them  was  sacri 
lege.  If  the  pitcher  and  the  chalice  and  the  plate  had 
suffered  harm,  he  would  explain  that  he  had  taken 
them  to  the  jeweler  to  be  polished,  and  he  would  then 
have  them  repaired. 

But  William  postponed  his  work  at  Zion  Church, 
and  that  night,  when  John  Hartman  stole  back  to 
replace  the  silver,  the  wall  was  finished  and  the 
mortar  set. 

That  night,  also,  John  Hartman  learned  with  ab 
solute  certainty  that  his  persecutor  was  dead,  and 
his  persecution  at  an  end. 

4 'They  do  not  know  that  the  communion  set  is 
gone,"  thought  he.  "To-morrow  I  will  find  a  way.'1 

But  in  a  sort  of  stupor,  from  which  he  roused  him 
self  now  and  then  to  make  wild  and  fruitless  plans, 
John  Hartman  let  the  days  go  by.  The  blow  he  had 
received  had  affected  him  not  only  mentally,  but 
physically,  and  he  was  slow  to  recover  from  it,  past 
though  the  danger  was.  He  went  about  his  farms, 
he  looked  earnestly  upon  his  wife,  he  clasped  his 
little  boy  in  his  arms  to  assure  himself  that  his  two 
treasures  were  real. 


KATY  GAUMER  79 

But  the  more  certain  he  became  that  the  ghost  of 
the  past  was  laid,  the  more  terribly  did  the  present 
specter  rise  to  harass  him.  Communion  Sunday  was 
approaching,  the  loss  of  the  communion  service 
would  be  discovered.  There  were  moments  when 
the  distracted  man  prayed  for  a  miracle.  He  had 
been  delivered  from  that  other  terror  by  an  act  of 
Providence  which  was  almost  a  miracle;  would  he 
not  be  similarly  saved  in  a  situation  in  which  he  was 
innocent? 

He  thought  of  going  at  night  and  tearing  the  wall 
down  and  restoring  the  service  to  its  place,  leaving 
the  strange  vandalism  a  mystery  to  horrified  Millers- 
town.  How  happy  he  should  be  to  pay  for  the  re 
building  of  the  wall !  But  the  task  was  too  difficult, 
discovery  too  probable. 

As  the  days  passed,  another  way  out  of  his  trouble 
occurred  to  him.  He  would  go  to  William  Koehler 
and  tell  him  all  his  misery.  William  was  a  good-na 
tured,  quiet  soul,  who  could  be  persuaded  to  silence, 
or  who  might  set  a  price  upon  silence,  if  silence 
were  a  salable  commodity.  William  could  easily  find 
an  excuse  for  doing  his  work  over ;  it  was  well  known 
that  he  was  foolishly  particular.  It  never  occurred 
to  John  that  suspicion  of  theft  would  probably  fall 
upon  honest,  simple  William,  who  had  had  the  key 
of  the  cupboard  and  who  had  been  the  whole  day 
alone  in  the  church.  He  got  no  farther  than  his  own 
terrible  problem.  He  had  dropped  the  silver  into 
the  wall;  both  letter  and  silver  were  there  convict- 


8o  KATY  GAUMER 

ing  him;  he  must  find  a  way  to  get  them  both  out 
and  to  put  the  silver  in  its  place. 

But  he  allowed  day  after  day  to  pass  and  did  not 
visit  William.  William  was,  after  all,  only  a  day 
laborer  of  the  stupid  family  of  Koehlers  and  John 
was  a  property  owner  and  an  elder  in  the  church ;  it 
would  be  intolerably  humiliating  to  make  such  a  con 
fession.  Communion  Sunday  was  still  two  weeks 
away;  there  would  be  time  for  him  to  make  some 
other  plan. 

When  Communion  Sunday  morning  came,  John 
had  still  no  plan.  Moving  as  in  a  trance,  he  went 
with  his  wife  to  church,  to  find  the  congregation 
gathered  into  wondering,  distressed  groups.  The 
door  of  the  little  cupboard  was  open,  and  beside  it  was 
the  smooth,  newly  painted  wall.  It  was  too  late  for 
John  to  ask  William  Koehler  for  help  in  his  difficulty. 

He  did  not  realize  that  all  about  him  his  fellow 
church  members  were  whispering  about  William; 
he  did  not  hear  that  William  was  accused,  he  was  so 
dazed  by  the  fortunate  complications  of  his  own 
situation.  They  did  not  dream  of  his  agency!  He 
would  replace  the  set  with  a  much  more  beautiful 
one.  This  generation  would  pass  away  long  before 
the  wall  would  be  taken  down  and  then  the  letter 
would  be  utterly  destroyed  by  age  or  dampness.  He 
said  to  himself  that  God  had  been  very  good  to  him; 
he  even  dared  to  thank  Him  during  the  confused, 
uneasy  service  which  the  pastor  conducted  upon  his 
return  from  the  house  of  William  Koehler. 


KATY  GAUMER  81 

And  if  William  were  accused,  William  had  only 
to  deny  that  he  had  seen  the  communion  service  or 
that  he  had  even  opened  the  door!  He  might,  if 
worse  came  to  worst,  let  them  search  his  house. 
John  wished  patronizingly  that  he  could  give  Wil 
liam  a  little  advice.  He  pitied  William. 

By  night  this  pity  had  changed  to  hate.  For  like 
the  wildcats,  whose  leap  from  above  he  had  feared 
as  a  child  when  he  walked  the  mountain  road, 
so  William  leaped  upon  him  with  his  charge. 

"You  took  it!"  insisted  William.  "You  stole  the 
communion  set!" 

Here  was  ruin,  indeed!  But  Cassie  thought  the 
man  mad ;  she  paid  no  attention  to  his  frantic  words ; 
she  was  concerned  only  about  the  state  of  her  snow- 
tracked  floor.  Hope  leaped  in  the  breast  of  John 
Hartman.  No  living  soul  would  believe  such  an 
accusation  against  him ! 

When  William  had  gone,  John  put  on  his  coat 
and  went  to  the  house  of  the  preacher.  He  even 
forced  himself  to  use  one  of  Millerstown's  interest 
ing  idioms,  one  of  the  last  humorous  expressions 
of  John  Hartman's  life. 

"William  Koehler  came  to  me  and  accused  me 
of  stealing  the  communion  service,"  said  he.  "There 
is  one  rafter  too  few  or  too  many  in  his  little  house." 

The  preacher  shook  his  head. 

"There  is  something  very  wrong  with  poor  Wil 
liam,"  said  he  sorrowfully. 

With  a  firm  step  John  Hartman  returned  to  his 


82  KATY  GAUMER  ' 

house.  When  it  was  time  for  the  evening  service  he 
went  to  church  as  was  his  custom. 

John  Hartmaix's  bank  account  increased  steadily ; 
he  added  field  to  field  and  orchard  to  orchard.  His 
great  safe  in  the  dining-room  held  papers  of  greater 
and  greater  value;  his  great  Swiss  barns  with  their 
deep  forebays  and  their  mammoth  haylofts  were 
enlarged;  his  orchards  bent  under  their  weight  of 
fruit.  But  John  Hartman  did  not  say  to  his  soul, 
" Take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry."  With 
his  soul  poor  John  held  a  different  sort  of  con 
verse. 

Desperately  he  tried  to  fix  his  mind  upon  his 
many  affairs,  so  that  he  might  shut  out  the  recollec 
tion  of  William  Koehler  and  the  sound  of  his  mad 
voice.  He  was  afraid  for  a  long  time  that  he,  John 
Hartman,  might  rise  suddenly  in  church  and  make 
rash  confession,  or  that  he  might  point  out  to  his 
fellow  directors  in  the  bank  the  black-bearded, 
sharp-eyed  face,  which  he  saw  looking  at  him  over 
their  shoulders,  or  that  he  might  shout  out  upon 
the  street  his  secret. 

Gradually  he  succeeded  in  thinking  only  of  his 
work.  The  sudden  appearance  of  William  Koehler 
gave  him  a  strange  trembling  of  the  limbs  and  an 
oppression  about  the  heart,  that  was  all.  William 
made  no  further  accusation  for  a  long  time,  and 
encounters  could  be  avoided.  Long  before  William 
had  begun  to  pray  aloud,  dropping  down  in  front 
of  the  post-office  or  at  a  street  corner,  Millerstown 


KATY  GAUMER  83 

had  become  certain  that  he  was  crazy.  His  unintel 
ligible  prayers  betrayed  nothing. 

But,  slowly,  as  his  mind  turned  itself  a  little  from 
its  own  wretchedness,  poor  Hartman  became  aware 
of  an  enemy  in  his  own  household.  To  his  caresses 
his  wife  ceased  to  respond;  she  had  become  once 
more  the  silent,  cold  woman  of  their  earliest  married 
life,  whom  he  had  chosen  because  she  and  the 
woman  who  had  victimized  him  were  as  far  apart 
as  the  poles  in  character  and  disposition.  At  first 
poor  Hartman  thought  that  she  felt  his  neglect  of 
her  during  the  weeks  of  his  misery ;  he  tried  now  to 
be  all  the  more  tender  and  affectionate.  If  he  could 
only  find  here  a  refuge,  if  he  could  only  lay  before 
her  his  wretched  state!  But  confession  to  Cassie 
was  impossible;  one  had  only  to  look  upon  her  to 
see  that! 

Presently  Hartman  decided  that  she  believed 
William's  accusation,  and  he  became  enraged  with 
her  because  she  would  believe  that  to  which  no  one 
else  in  Millerstown  would  give  an  instant's  cre 
dence.  ' '  Let  her  believe !"  said  he  then  in  his  despair. 
She  became  in  his  mind  a  partner  of  William  against 
him.  Let  each  do  his  worst;  they  could  convict  him 
of  nothing. 

In  reality  it  was  Hartman's  earlier  sin  which  was 
no  more  his  secret.  He  had  delayed  too  long  in 
answering  the  demand  for  money  and  a  letter  had 
been  written  to  Cassie  also,  and  Cassie  had  hardened 
her  heart  against  him,  hardened  her  heart  even 


84  KATY  GAUMER 

against  her  child.  Cassie  had  had  a  sad  life;  her 
heart  was  only  a  little  softened  as  yet  by  her  happi 
ness. 

"  I  will  not  care,"  cried  poor  Cassie.  "  I  will  hence 
forth  set  my  heart  on  nothing!" 

Cassie  was  a  woman  of  mighty  will ;  her  youth  had 
trained  her  to  strength.  When  her  child  climbed  her 
knee,  she  put  him  away  from  her ;  when  she  remem 
bered  John  Hartman's  hopes  for  the  occupation  of 
the  many  rooms  he  had  built  in  his  house,  she  shook 
her  head  with  a  deep,  choking,  indrawn  breath.  It 
could  never,  never  be ! 

But  the  human  heart  must  have  some  object  for 
its  care  or  it  will  cease  to  beat.  Upon  her  posses 
sions,  her  house,  her  carpets,  her  furniture,  Cassie 
set  now  her  affection.  These  inanimate  things  had 
no  power  to  deceive,  to  betray,  to  torture.  Gradu 
ally  they  became  so  precious  that  her  great  rooms 
were  like  shrines,  into  which  she  went  but  seldom, 
but  to  which  her  heart  turned  as  she  sat  alone  by 
her  kitchen  window  with  her  sewing  or  lay  awake 
by  her  husband's  side  in  the  great  wonderfully  be 
decked  walnut  bed  which,  to  her  thinking,  human 
use  profaned. 

Thus,  in  the  same  house,  eating  at  the  same  table, 
sitting  side  by  side  in  church,  watching  their  son 
grow  into  a  young  manhood  which  was  as  silent  as 
their  middle  age,  the  guilty  man  and  the  unforgiv 
ing  woman  had  lived  side  by  side  for  almost  fifteen 
years  this  Christmas  Day.  John  Hartman  had  built 


KATY  GAUMER  85 

no  great  church,  rising  like  a  cathedral  on  the  hill 
side.  He  had  not  even  presented  the  church  with  a 
communion  service,  being  afraid  of  rousing  sus 
picion.  He  had  gathered  great  store  for  himself  — 
an  object  in  life  toward  which  he  had  never  aimed. 

Millerstown  suspected  nothing,  neither  of  the  sin 
of  John  Hartman's  youth,  nor  of  his  strange  con 
nection  with  the  disappearance  of  the  communion 
service,  nor  of  poor  Cassie's  aching,  hardening  heart. 
Millerstown,  like  the  rest  of  the  world,  accepted 
people  as  they  were;  it  did  not  seek  for  excuses  or 
explanations  or  springs  of  action.  John  Hartman 
was  a  silent  and  taciturn  man  —  few  persons  re 
membered  that  he  had  been  otherwise.  Cassie  was 
so  unpleasantly  particular  about  her  belongings  that 
she  would  not  invite  her  neighbors  to  quiltings  and 
apple-butter  boilings,  and  so  inhumanly  unsocial 
that  she  would  not  attend  those  functions  at  other 
houses.  There  was  an  end  of  the  Hartmans. 

Gradually  a  second  change  came  over  John  Hart 
man.  His  horror  of  discovery  became  a  horror  of 
his  sin;  he  was  bowed  with  grief  and  remorse. 

"  He  has  gone  crazy  over  it ! "  he  lamented .  '  *  Wil 
liam  Koehler  has  gone  crazy  over  it.  I  wish  "  —  poor 
Hartman  spoke  with  agony  —  "  I  wish  he  had  proved 
it  against  me.  Then  it  would  all  have  been  over 
long  ago!" 

When  William  Koehler's  wife  died,  John  Hartman 
struggled  terribly  with  himself,  but  could  not  bring 
himself  to  make  confession.  From  an  upper  window 


86  KATY^GAUMER 

he  watched  the  little  cortege  leave  the  house  on  the 
hill ;  he  saw  William  lift  his  little  boy  into  the  car 
riage;  he  saw  the  cortege  disappear  in  the  whirling 
snow.  But  still  he  was  silent. 

When  William  in  his  insanity  mortgaged  his  little 
house  in  order  to  pay  dishonest  and  thieving  men 
to  watch  John  Hartman,  John  Hartman  secured  the 
mortgage  and  treasured  it  against  the  time  when  he 
would  prove  to  William  that  he  had  tried  to  do  well 
by  him.  John  Hartman  also  bought  other  mort 
gages.  When  Oliver  Kuhns,  the  elder,  squandered 
his  little  inheritance  in  the  only  spree  of  his  life, 
John  Hartman  helped  him  to  keep  the  whole  matter 
from  Millerstown  and  restored  to  him  his  house. 
When  one  of  the  Fackenthals,  yielding  to  a  mad  im 
pulse  to  speculate,  used  the  money  of  the  school 
board  and  lost  it,  John  Hartman  gave  him  the 
money  in  secret.  Proud  Emma  Loos  never  knew  that 
her  husband  had  wasted  her  little  patrimony  before 
he  died.  Sarah  Benner  never  discovered  that  for 
days  threat  of  prison  hung  over  her  son  and  that 
John  Hartman  helped  him  to  make  good  what  he 
had  stolen. 

But  John  Hartman's  benefactions  did  not  ease  his 
soul.  He  came  to  see  clearly  that  he  must  have 
peace  of  mind  or  he  would  die.  He  no  longer  thought 
of  the  disgrace  to  his  wife  and  son;  his  thoughts 
had  been  for  so  long  fixed  upon  himself  that  he  could 
put  himself  in  the  place  of  no  one  else. 

"  To-morrow  I  will  make  this  right,"  he  would 
say,  and  forever,  "To-morrow,  to-morrow !"/ 


KATY  GAUMER  87 

But  the  years  passed  and  William  Koehler  grew 
more  mad  and  John  Hartman  more  rich  and  more 
silent,  and  the  silver  service  lay  deep  in  the  pit 
between  the  church  and  the  Sunday  School.  The 
little  building  was  solid,  it  was  amply  large,  it  would 
serve  many  generations.  Katy  Gaumer,  brushed 
out  of  his  path  by  John  Hartman  as  he  sought  the 
door  that  November  day,  recalled  nothing  of  the 
incident  except  that  her  childish  dignity  had  been 
wounded.  It  was  Katy  herself  who  said  that  nothing 
ever  happened  in  Millerstown! 

Presently  the  beating  of  John  Hartman's  pulse 
quickened;  it  became  difficult  for  him  to  draw  a 
long,  free,  comfortable  breath.  Dr.  Benner,  whom 
he  consulted,  said  that  he  must  eat  less  and  must 
walk  more.  John  Hartman  said  to  himself  that  now, 
before  another  day  passed,  he  would  go  to  the  little 
house  on  the  mountain-side  and  begin  to  set  right 
the  awful  wrong  of  his  youth.  But  still  he  planned 
to  go  to-morrow  instead  of  to-day.  Finally,  one 
afternoon  in  May,  he  had  his  horse  put  into  the 
buggy  and  drove  slowly  up  the  mountain  road. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  MILLERSTOWN  SCHOOL  ' 

THE  24th  of  December,  with  its  great  Christmas 
entertainment,  had  closed  a  term  of  average  ac 
complishment  in  the  Millerstown  school.  Alvin 
Koehler  and  David  Hartman,  who  composed  the 
highest  class,  had  been,  the  one  as  idle,  the  other 
as  sullen,  as  usual.  The  children  had  learned  about 
as  much  as  the  Millerstown  children  were  accus 
tomed  to  learn  in  an  equal  time,  they  had  been  rep 
rimanded  about  as  often.  The  teacher  had  roared 
at  them  with  the  vehemence  usually  required  for 
the  management  of  such  young  savages  as  Coonie 
Schnable  and  Ollie  Kuhns  and  Katy  Gaumer. 
Katy,  in  the  second  class,  had  not  nearly  enough  to 
keep  her  busy;  there  remained  on  her  hands  too 
many  moments  to  be  devoted  to  the  invention  of 
mischief. 

But  now,  suddenly,  began  a  new  era  in  the  Millers- 
town  school.  Mr.  Carpenter,  recovering  at  happy 
ease  in  his  home  in  a  neighboring  village  from  the 
strain  put  upon  him  by  the  stupidity  and  imperti 
nence  and  laziness  of  his  pupils,  was  to  be  further 
irritated  and  annoyed. 

School  opened  on  New  Year's  morning,  and  Mr. 
Carpenter  rose  a  little  late  from  his  comfortable  bed 


KATY  GAUMER  89 

at  Sarah  Ann  Mohr's  and  ate  hurriedly  his  break 
fast  of  delicious  panhaas  and  smoked  sausage.  Haste 
at  meals  always  tried  the  sybarite  soul  of  Mr.  Car 
penter.  He  was  cross  because  he  had  to  get  up;  he 
was  cross  because  he  had  to  teach  school;  he  was 
cross  at  Sarah  Ann  because  she  urged  him  to  further 
speed.  Sarah  Ann  always  mothered  and  grand 
mothered  the  teacher. 

"You  will  come  late,  teacher.  You  will  have  to 
hurry  yourself.  It  is  not  a  good  thing  to  be  late  on 
New  Year's  already,  teacher.  New  Year,"  • — went 
on  Sarah  Ann  in  her  provokingly  placid  way,  — 
"New  Year  should  be  always  a  fresh  start  in  our 
lives." 

Mr.  Carpenter  slammed  the  kitchen  door;  he 
would  have  liked  to  be  one  of  his  own  scholars  for 
the  moment  and  to  have  turned  and  made  a  face 
at  Sarah  Ann.  He  was  not  interested  in  fresh  starts. 
Taking  his  own  deliberate,  comfortable  time,  he 
started  out  the  pike. 

Then,  suddenly,  the  clear,  sweet  notes  of  the 
schoolhouse  bell,  whose  rope  it  was  his  high  office 
to  pull,  astonished  the  ears  of  the  teacher.  It  was 
one  of  the  impertinent  boys,  —  Ollie  Kuhns,  in 
all  probability,  —  who  thus  dared  to  reprove  his 
master. 

"It  will  give  a  good  thrashing  for  that  one,  who 
ever  he  is,"  Mr.  Carpenter  promised  himself.  "He 
will  begin  the  New  Year  fine.  He  will  ache  on  the 
New  Year." 


90  KATY  GAUMER1 

But  the  bell  rang  slowly,  its  stroke  was  not  such 
as  the  arm  of  a  strong  boy  could  produce.  Indeed, 
Mr.  Carpenter  never  allowed  the  boys  to  ring  the 
bell,  because  there  responded  at  once  to  the  sound 
the  whole  of  alarmed  Millerstown  seeking  to  res 
cue  its  children  from  fire.  The  bell  had,  moreover, 
to  Mr.  Carpenter's  puzzled  ears,  a  solemn  tone,  as 
though  at  portended  things  of  moment.  Faster  Mr. 
Carpenter  moved  along,  past  the  Squire's  where 
Whiskey  barked  at  him,  and  he  hissed  a  little  at 
Whiskey;  past  Grandfather  Gaumer's,  where  he 
thought  of  Grandfather's  Katy  and  her  ways  with 
bitter  disapproval,  to  the  open  spaces  of  the  pike. 

The  bell  still  rang  solemnly,  as  Mr.  Carpenter 
hurried  across  the  yard  and  up  the  steps. 

In  the  vestibule  of  the  schoolhouse,  he  stood 
still,  dumb,  paralyzed.  The  ringer  of  the  bell,  the 
inventor  of  woe  still  unsuspected  by  Mr.  Carpenter, 
stood  before  him.  During  the  Christmas  holiday, 
Katy's  best  dress  had  become  her  everyday  dress; 
its  red  was  redder  than  Katy's  cheeks,  brighter  than 
her  eyes;  it  had  upon  her  teacher  the  well-known 
effect  of  that  brilliant  color  upon  certain  tempera 
ments.  Mr.  Carpenter's  cheeks  began  to  match 
it  in  hue;  he  opened  his  lips  several  times  to  speak, 
but  was  unable  to  bring  forth  a  sound. 

Katy  gave  the  rope  another  long,  deliberate  pull, 
then  she  eased  her  arms  by  letting  them  drop 
heavily  to  her  sides.  From  within  the  schoolroom 
the  children,  even  Ollie  Kuhns,  watched  in  admira- 


KATY  GAUMER  91 

tion  and  awe.  Katy  was  always  independent,  always 
impertinent,  but  she  had  never  before  dared  to  usurp 
the  teacher's  place. 

"Say!"  Thus  in  a  terrible  voice  did  Mr.  Carpen 
ter  finally  succeed  in  addressing  his  pupil.  "Who 
told  you  you  had  the  dare  to  ring  this  bell?" 

To  this  question  Katy  returned  no  answer.  With 
eased  arms  she  brushed  vigorously  until  she  had 
removed  the  lint  which  had  gathered  on  her  dress, 
then  she  walked  into  the  schoolroom,  denuded  now 
of  its  greens  and  flags  and  reduced  to  the  dullness 
of  every  day.  Her  teacher  continued  his  admoni 
tions  as  he  followed  her  up  the  aisle. 

"I  guess  you  think  you  are  very  smart,  Katy. 
Well,  you  are  not  smart,  that  is  what  you  are  not. 
I  would  give  you  a  good  whipping  if  I  did  right,  that 
is  what  I  would  do.  I  — " 

To  the  amazement  of  her  school-fellows,  Katy, 
after  lingering  a  moment  at  her  desk,  followed  Mr. 
Carpenter  to  the  front  of  the  room.  She  still  made 
no  answer,  she  only  approached  him  solemnly.  Was 
she  going,  of  her  own  accord,  to  deliver  herself  up  to 
punishment?  Mr.  Carpenter's  heavy  rod  had  never 
dared  to  touch  the  shoulders  of  Katy  Gaumer,  whose 
whole  "  Freundschaf t "  was  on  the  school  board. 

The  Millerstown  school  ceased  speculating  and 
gave  itself  to  observation.  Upon  the  teacher's  desk, 
Katy  laid,  one  by  one,  three  books  and  a  pamphlet. 
Then  Katy  spoke,  and  the  sound  of  the  school  bell, 
solemn  as  it  had  been,  was  not  half  so  ominous,  so 


92  KATY  GAUMER 

filled  with  alarming  import  as  Katy's  words.  She 
stood  beside  the  desk,  she  offered  first  one  book  to 
the  master,  then  another. 

"Here  is  a  algebray,"  explained  Katy;  "here  is  a 
geometry,  here  is  a  Latin  book.  Here  is  a  catalogue 
that  tells  about  these  things.  I  am  going  to  college ; 
I  must  know  many  things  that  I  never  yet  heard 
of  in  this  world.  And  you"  —  announced  Katy  — 
"you  are  to  learn  me!" 

"What!"  cried  Mr.  Carpenter. 

"I  am  sorry  for  all  the  bad  things  I  did  already 
in  this  school."  The  Millerstown  children  quivered 
with  excitement;  on  the  last  seat  Ollie  Kuhns  pre 
tended  to  fall  headlong  into  the  aisle.  Alvin  Koehler 
looked  up  with  mild  interest  from  his  desk  which 
he  had  been  idly  contemplating,  and  David  Hartman 
blushed  scarlet.  Poor  David's  pipe  had  not  yet 
cured  him  of  love,  "  I  will  do  better  from  now  on," 
promised  Katy.  "And  you"  —  again  this  ominous 
refrain  —  "you  are  to  learn  me!" 

"You  cannot  study  those  things!"  cried  Mr.  Car 
penter  in  triumph.  "You  are  not  even  in  the  first 
class!" 

"  I  will  move  to  the  first  class,"  announced  Katy. 
"This  week  I  have  studied  all  the  first  class  spelling. 
You  cannot  catch  me  on  a  single  word.  I  can  spell 
them  in  syllables  and  not  in  syllables.  I  can  say  /, 
/,  or  double  /.  I  can  say  them  backwards.  I  have 
worked  also  all  the  examples  in  the  first  class  arith 
metic.  The  squire"  —  thus  did  Katy  dangle  the 


KATY  GAUMER  93 

chains  of  Mr.  Carpenter's  servitude  before  his  dis 
gusted  eyes  —  "the  squire,  he  heard  me  the  spelling, 
and  the  doctor,  he  looked  at  my  examples.  They 
were  all  right.  It  will  not  be  long  before  I  catch  up 
with  those  two  in  the  first  class."  Katy  flushed  a 
deeper  red.  Over  and  over  she  said  to  herself,  "I 
shall  be  in  the  first  class  with  Alvin,  I  shall  be  in  the 
first  class  with  Alvin!"  Her  knees  began  suddenly 
to  tremble  and  she  started  back  to  her  desk,  scarcely 
knowing  which  way  she  went. 

As  she  passed  down  the  aisle,  she  felt  upon  her 
David  Hartman's  glance.  He  sat  in  the  last  row, 
his  head  down  between  his  shoulders.  As  Katy 
drew  near,  his  gaze  dropped  to  the  hem  of  her  red 
dress.  David's  heart  thumped;  it  seemed  to  him 
that  every  one  in  the  school  must  see  that  he  was 
in  love  with  Katy  Gaumer.  He  hated  himself  for 
it. 

"Don't  you  want  me  in  your  class,  David?1' 
asked  Katy  foolishly  and  flippantly.  Katy  spoke 
a  dozen  times  before  she  thought  once. 

David  looked  up  at  her,  then  he  looked  down.  His 
eyes  smarted ;  he  was  terrified  lest  he  cry. 

"  I  have  one  dumb  one  in  my  class  already,"  said 
he.  "I  guess  I  can  stand  another." 

Katy  dropped  into  her  seat  with  a  slam.  The 
teacher's  hand  was  poised  above  the  bell  which 
called  the  school  to  order,  and  for  Katy,  at  least, 
there  was  to  be  no  more  ignoring  of  times  and 
seasons. 


94  KATY  GAUMER 

"Dumb?"  repeated  Katy.  "You  will  see  who  is 
the  dumb  one!" 

With  the  loud  ringing  of  the  teacher's  bell  a  new 
order  began  in  the  Millerstown  school.  Its  first 
manifestation  was  beneficent,  rather  than  other 
wise.  It  became  apparent  that  with  Katy  Gaumer 
orderly,  the  school  was  orderly.  The  morning  passed 
and  then  the  afternoon  without  a  pause  in  its  busy 
labors.  No  one  was  whipped,  no  one  was  sent  to  the 
corner,  no  one  was  even  reproved.  A  studious  Katy 
seemed  to  set  an  example  to  the  school ;  a  respect 
ful  Katy  seemed  to  establish  an  atmosphere  of 
respect.  Mr.  Carpenter  was  wholly  pleased. 

But  Mr.  Carpenter's  pleasure  did  not  last.  Mr. 
Carpenter  became  swiftly  aware  of  a  worse  condition 
than  that  of  the  past.  Mr.  Carpenter  had  been 
lifted  from  the  frying-pan  and  laid  upon  the  fire. 

To  her  teacher's  dismay,  Katy  came  early  in  the 
morning  to  ask  questions ;  she  stayed  in  the  school 
room  at  recess  to  ask  questions;  sometimes,  indeed, 
she  visited  her  afflicted  teacher  in  the  evenings  to 
ask  questions.  Katy  enjoyed  visiting  him  in  the 
evenings,  because  then  Sarah  Ann  Mohr,  sitting  on 
the  other  side  of  the  table,  her  delectable  Millers- 
town  "Star"  forgotten,  her  sewing  in  her  lap,  her 
lips  parted,  burned  before  her  favorite  the  incense 
of  speechless  admiration.  Poor  Mr.  Carpenter  grew 
thin  and  white,  and  his  little  mustache  drooped  as 
though  all  hope  had  gone  from  him.  Mr.  Carpenter 
learned  to  his  bitter  sorrow  that  algebra  and  geom- 


KATY  GAUMER  95 

etry  were  no  idle  threats,  and  Mr.  Carpenter,  who 
had  put  his  normal  school  learning,  as  he  thought, 
forever  behind  him,  had  to  go  painfully  in  search  of 
it.  The  squire  was  Katy's  uncle,  the  doctor  was  her 
cousin;  they  were  all  on  Katy's  side;  they  helped 
her  with  her  lessons;  they  encouraged  her  in  this 
morbid  and  unhealthy  desire  for  learning,  and  the 
teacher  did  not  dare  to  refuse  her.  The  difficulties 
of  the  civil  service  examination  appalled  him;  he 
could  never  pass;  he  must  at  all  costs  keep  the 
Millerstown  school. 

Occasionally,  as  of  old,  Katy  corrected  him,  but 
now  her  corrections  were  involuntary  and  were  im 
mediately  apologized  for. 

"You  must  not  say  'craddle';  you  must  say 
'crawl'  or  'creep/"  directed  Katy.  "Ach,  I  am 
sorry!  I  did  not  mean  to  say  that!  But  how"  — 
this  with  desperate  appeal  —  "how  can  I  learn  if 
you  do  not  make  it  right?" 

Sometimes  Katy  threatened  poor  Mr.  Carpen 
ter  with  Greek;  then  Mr.  Carpenter  would  have 
welcomed  the  Socratic  cup. 

"  My  patience  is  all,"  he  groaned.  "  Do  they  take 
me  for  a  dictionary?  Do  they  think  I  am  a  ency 
clopaedia?" 

Still,  through  the  long  winter  Katy's  relatives 
continued  to  spoil  her.  In  Millerstown  there  has 
never  been  any  objection  to  educating  women 
simply  because  they  are  women.  The  Millerstown 
woman  has  always  had  exactly  what  she  wanted. 


96  KATY  GAUMER 

The  normal  schools  and  high  schools  in  Pennsyl 
vania  German  sections  have  always  had  more  wo 
men  students  than  men.  If  Katy  wanted  an  educa 
tion,  she  should  have  it;  indeed,  in  the  sudden 
Gaumer  madness,  Katy  should  have  had  the  moon 
if  she  had  asked  for  it  and  if  her  friends  could  have 
got  it  for  her.  Her  grandfather  and  grandmother 
talked  about  her  as  they  sat  together  in  the  even 
ings  while  Katy  was  extracting  knowledge  from  the 
squire  or  from  the  doctor  or  from  Mr.  Carpenter, 
never  dreaming  that  they  were  rapidly  ruining  the 
Benjamin  of  their  old  age.  They  had  trained  many 
children,  and  the  squire  had  admonished  all  Millers- 
town,  but  Katy  was  never  admonished  by  any  of 
them.  They  liked  her  bright  speech,  they  liked  her 
ambition,  they  allowed  themselves  the  luxury  of 
indulging  her  in  everything  she  wanted. 

"She  is  that  smart!"  Bevy  Schnepp  expressed 
the  opinion  of  all  Katy's  kin.  "When  she  is  high 
gelernt  [learned],  she  will  speak  in  many  woices 
[tongues]." 

Of  all  her  relatives  none  spoiled  Katy  quite  so 
recklessly  as  young  Dr.  Benner.  There  was  not 
enough  practice  in  healthy  Millerstown  to  keep  him 
busy,  and  Katy  amused  and  entertained  him.  He 
liked  to  take  her  about  with  him  in  his  buggy;  he 
liked  to  give  her  hard  problems,  and  to  see  to  what 
lengths  of  memorizing  she  could  go.  Dr.  Benner 
had  theories  about  the  education  of  children  and  he 
expounded  them  with  the  cheerful  conceit  of  bache- 


KATY  GAUMER  97 

lors  and  maiden  ladies.  Dr.  Benner,  indeed,  had 
theories  about  everything.  It  was  absurd,  to  Dr. 
Benner's  thinking,  ever  to  restrain  a  healthy  child 
from  learning. 

"Let  'em  absorb,"  said  he.  "They  won't  take 
more  than  is  good  for  'em." 

Dr.  Benner  was  nearly  enough  related  to  Katy  to 
be  called  a  cousin,  yet  far  enough  removed  to  be 
stirred  into  something  like  jealousy  at  Katy's  enthu 
siastic  defense  of  the  Koehlers.  Katy  should  have 
no  youthful  entanglement  —  Dr.  Benner  remem 
bered  his  own  early  development  and  flushed  shame 
facedly  —  to  prevent  her  from  growing  into  the 
remarkable  person  she  might  become.  Dr.  Benner 
decided  that  she  must  be  got  away  from  Millerstown 
as  soon  as  possible;  she  had  been  already  too  much 
influenced  by  its  German  ways.  Katy  was  meant 
for  higher  things.  For  a  while  young  Dr.  Benner 
felt  that,  pruned  and  polished,  Katy  was  meant 
for  him ! 

Meanwhile,  Katy  was  to  be  saved  from  further 
contamination  by  being  kept  constantly  busy.  It 
pleased  him  to  see  her  devoted  to  algebra,  and  he 
was  constantly  suggesting  new  departures  in  learn 
ing  to  her  aspiring  mind.  It  was  unfortunate  that 
each  new  suggestion  included  a  compliment. 

"I  believe  you  could  sing,  Katy,"  said  he,  one 
March  day,  as,  with  Katy  beside  him,  he  drove 
slowly  down  the  mountain  road. 

The  landscape  lay  before  them,   wide,   lovely, 


98  KATY  GAUMER 

smiling,  full  of  color  in  the  clear  sunshine.  Far  away 
a  bright  spot  showed  where  the  sun  was  reflected 
from  the  spires  and  roofs  of  the  county  seat;  here 
and  there  the  blast  furnaces  lifted  the  smoky  ban 
ner  of  prosperous  times. 

Katy's  cheeks  were  red,  her  dark  hair  blew  across 
her  forehead ;  it  was  with  difficulty  that  she  sat  still 
beside  the  doctor.  Spring  was  coming,  life  was 
coming. 

"Sing?"  said  Katy,  "I  sing?  I  would  like  that 
better  than  anything  I  can  think  of  in  this  world.  I 
would  rather  be  a  singer  than  a  missionary." 

There  was  really  nothing  in  the  world  that  Katy 
would  not  have  liked  to  do,  except  to  stay  in  Millers- 
town  and  be  inconspicuous;  there  was  nothing  in 
the  world  which  she  questioned  her  ultimate  ability 
to  do. 

The  doctor  chuckled  at  Katy's  comparison,  which 
Katy  had  not  intended  to  be  funny. 

"A  classmate  of  mine  is  coming  to  see  me  next 
week.  He  teaches  singing,  and  I  'm  going  to  get  him 
to  hear  your  voice.  Won't  that  be  fine,  Katy?" 

"Everything  is  fine,"  answered  Katy. 

The  doctor's  classmate  arrived;  for  him  Katy 
oh'd  and  ah'd  through  an  astonishingly  wide  range. 
The  young  man  was  enthusiastic  over  her  vocal  pos 
sibilities. 

"  But  he  says  you  must  n't  take  lessons  for  another 
year,"  said  Dr.  Benner. 

Again  he  and  Katy  were  driving  down  the  moun- 


KATY  GAUMER  99 

tain  road.  They  had  climbed  this  afternoon  to  the 
Sheep  Stable,  and  from  there  had  gazed  at  the  glo 
rious  prospect  and  had  counted  through  a  glass  the 
scattered  villages  and  the  church  spires  in  the 
county  seat. 

Katy's  blood  tingled  in  her  veins.  She  had  never 
dreamed  that  she  could  sing!  She  had  never  seen 
a  picture  which  was  painted  by  hand  or  she  would 
now  have  been  certain  that  she  could  become  a  great 
artist.  She  determined  that  some  day  she  would 
return  to  the  Sheep  Stable  alone  and  there  sing  for 
her  own  satisfaction.  She  had  not  sung  her  best  for 
the  doctor's  friend  down  in  grandmother's  parlor, 
her  best  meaning  her  loudest.  At  the  Sheep  Stable 
there  would  be  no  walls  to  confine  the  great  sounds 
she  would  produce. 

"I  will  sing  so  that  they  hear  me  at  Allentown," 
she  planned.  "  I  have  no  time  now,  but  when  I  have 
time  I  will  go  once.  It  is  so  nice  not  to  be  dumb/' 
finished  Katy  with  great  satisfaction. 

The  winter  passed  like  a  dream.  Presently  an  in 
teresting  change  came  about  in  the  Millerstown 
school  and  in  its  teacher.  Perhaps  Mr.  Carpenter 
was  mortified,  as  well  as  driven  into  it,  but  there 
sprang  up  somehow  in  his  soul  a  decent,  honest  am 
bition.  Delving  painfully  after  forgotten  knowledge, 
he  studied  to  some  purpose,  and  it  began  to  seem 
as  though  even  civil  service  questions  might  become 
easy  and  Mr.  Carpenter  pass  his  examinations  at 
last.  For  the  first  few  weeks  of  the  new  regime,  he 


ioo  KATY  GAUMER 

was  able  to  keep  only  a  lesson  or  two  ahead  of  his 
pupils,  but,  little  by  little,  that  space  widened.  As 
if  in  pure  spite,  Mr.  Carpenter  learned  his  lessons. 
Then  he  assumed  a  superior  and  taunting  air.  Katy 
at  the  Christmas  entertainment  had  looked  at  him 
with  no  more  disgust  than  his  face  now  expressed 
when  his  pupils  gave  wrong  answers. 

"'Gelt  regiert  die  Welt,  und  Dummheit  Millers- 
town"'  (Gold  rules  the  world  and  stupidity  Mil- 
lerstown) !  Thus  Mr.  Carpenter  adapted  a  familiar 
proverb  in  comment  upon  mistakes  which  he  him 
self  would  have  made  a  month  ago. 

Mr.  Carpenter's  pupils  followed  him  steadily. 
David  Hartman  was  more  mature  than  the  others 
and  kept  without  difficulty  at  their  head.  As  for 
Katy,  with  the  help  which  Katy  had  out  of  school 
hours,  even  a  dull  child  might  have  done  well.  It 
was  help  which  was  not  unsuspected  by  David,  but 
David  held  his  tongue.  David  felt  a  fierce,  unwilling 
pride  in  Katy's  spirit. 

But  there  was  another  sort  of  help  being  given  and 
received  which  David  resented  jealously  and  indig 
nantly,  hardly  believing  the  evidence  of  his  own 
ears  and  eyes.  David  had  taken  some  pleasure  in 
the  winter's  work.  He  sat  daily  beside  Katy  in  class ; 
it  was  not  possible  for  her  to  be  always  rude  and 
curt.  David  was  also  puzzled  and  moved  by  a 
change  in  his  father.  He  often  met  his  father's 
glance  when  he  lifted  his  own  eyes  suddenly,  and 
it  seemed  to  him  that  his  father  had  come  to  realize 


KATY  GAUMER'  ioi 

his  existence.  His  heart  softened ;  he  was  pathetically 
quick  to  respond  to  signs  of  affection.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  each  day  brought  with  it  the  possibil 
ity  of  some  new,  extraordinary  happening.  Several 
times  he  was  on  the  point  of  putting  his  arm  about 
his  father's  shoulders  as  he  sat  with  his  paper.  With 
out  being  conscious  of  it,  John  Hartman  showed 
outwardly  the  signs  of  the  inward  struggle.  Never 
had  his  yearning,  repressed  love  for  the  boy  so  tor 
tured  him,  never  had  it  demanded  so  insistently  an 
outward  expression.  But  he  repressed  himself  a 
little  longer.  When  he  should  have  made  all  right 
with  William  Koehler,  then  would  he  yield  to  the 
impulses  of  fatherhood.  That  bound  poor  Hartman 
had  set  himself. 

Katy  remembered  all  her  life,  even  if  Alvin  Koeh 
ler  did  not,  the  day  on  which  Alvin  set  to  work  with 
diligence.  He  often  looked  at  her  curiously,  as  if  he 
could  not  understand  her.  But  Alvin  gave  earnest 
thought  only  to  himself,  to  his  hopeless  situation 
with  a  half-mad  and  dishonest  father  and  the  dismal 
prospect  of  working  in  the  furnace.  His  father 
seemed  to  be  becoming  more  wild.  There  were  times 
when  Alvin  feared  violence  at  his  hands.  He  talked 
to  himself  all  day  long,  making  frequent  mention  of 
John  Hartman.  Sometimes  Alvin  thought  vaguely 
of  warning  the  squire  or  John  Hartman  himself 
about  his  father.  He  believed  less  and  less  his  fa 
ther's  crazy  story. 

Sometimes  Alvin  stared  at  Katy  and  blinked  like 


KATY  GAUMER 

an  owl  in  his  effort  to  account  for  her  alternate 
shyness  and  kindness.  Alvin  was  not  accustomed 
to  being  treated  kindly. 

"  And  what  will  you  do  when  you  are  educated?" 
he  inquired. 

"What  will  I  do?"  repeated  Katy,  her  heart 
thumping  as  it  always  did  when  Alvin  spoke  to  her. 
"I  will  teach  and  I  will  earn  a  great  deal  of  money 
and  travel  over  the  whole  world  and  buy  me  souve 
nirs.  And  I  will  sing." 

It  was  very  pleasant  to  tell  Alvin  of  her  prospects. 
Perhaps  he  would  walk  home  with  her  from  church 
on  Sunday.  Then  how  Essie  Hill,  in  spite  of  all  her 
outward  piety,  would  hate  her!  The  secret  of  mild 
Essie's  soul  was  not  a  secret  from  Katy. 

"Will  you  teach  in  a  school  like  Millerstown?" 
asked  Alvin. 

"Millerstown!  Never!  It  would  have  to  be  a  big 
ger  school  than  Millerstown." 

Alvin  looked  up  at  Mr.  Carpenter.  It  was  recess 
and  Mr.  Carpenter  was  hearing  a  spelling  class  which 
had  not  learned  its  lesson  for  the  morning  recitation. 
Mr.  Carpenter  did  not  appear  at  his  best,  judged 
by  the  usually  accepted  standards  of  etiquette;  he 
leaned  back  lazily  in  his  chair,  his  feet  propped  on 
his  desk,  his  hands  clasped  above  his  head;  but  to 
Alvin  there  was  nothing  inelegant  in  his  attitude. 
Mr.  Carpenter  was  an  enviable  person;  he  never 
needed  to  soil  his  hands  or  to  have  a  grimy  face  or 
to  carry  a  dinner  pail. 


KATY  GAUMER  103 

" Teaching  would  be  nice  work,"  said  Alvin 
drearily.  "But  I  can  never  learn  this  Latin.  I  am 
all  the  time  getting  farther  behind.  It  gets  every 
day  worse  and  worse." 

"Oh,  but  you  can  learn  it!"  cried  Katy,  her  face 
aglow.  If  he  would  only,  only,  let  her  help!  " I  will 
show  you.  Here  are  my  sentences  for  to-day.  The 
doctor  went  over  them  and  he  says  they  are  all 
right."  And  blushing,  with  her  heart  pounding 
more  than  ever,  Katy  returned  to  her  seat. 

There  was  a  difficult  sentence  in  that  day's 
lesson,  a  sentence  over  which  David  Hartman  had 
puzzled  and  on  which  he  failed.  Then  the  teacher 
called  on  Alvin,  simply  as  a  matter  of  form.  The 
school  had  begun  to  giggle  a  little  when  they  heard 
his  name.  But  now  up  he  rose,  the  dull,  the  stupid, 
the  ordinary,  and  read  the  sentence  perfectly !  At 
him  David  Hartman  stared  with  scarlet  face.  He 
expected  that  the  teacher  would  rise  and  annihilate 
Alvin,  but  the  teacher  passed  to  the  next  sentence. 
Mr.  Carpenter  was  at  the  present  time  angry  at 
David;  he  was  rather  glad  he  was  discomfited. 
Such  was  the  nature  of  Mr.  Carpenter! 

To  Alvin  David  said  nothing,  but  upon  the 
shoulder  of  Katy  Gaumer,  putting  on  her  cloak 
in  the  cupboard  after  school,  David  laid  a  heavy 
hand. 

"You  helped  Alvin!"  David's  hand  quivered 
with  astonishment  and  anger  and  from  the  touch 
of  Katy's  shoulder.  "It  is  cheating.  Some  day  I 


104  KATY  GAUMER 

am  going  to  catch  you  at  it  before  the  whole 
school.'1 

Before  she  could  answer,  if  she  could  have  made 
answer  at  all,  David  was  gone.  She  hated  him; 
she  would  help  Alvin  all  she  liked  until  he  had 
caught  up,  and  afterwards,  too,  if  she  pleased.  Alvin 
had  had  no  chance,  and  David  had  everything,  a 
rich  father,  fine  clothes  and  money.  It  was  perfectly 
fair  for  her  to  help  Alvin.  She  hated  all  the  Hart- 
mans.  She  was  furiously  angry  and  it  hurt  to  be 
angry.  It  did  not  occur  to  her  to  be  ashamed  of 
Alvin  who  would  accept  a  girl's  translation.  With 
a  whirl  and  a  flirting  of  her  skirts,  Katy  sailed 
through  the  door  and  down  the  pike. 

41  You  will  sit  in  Millerstown ! "  she  declared  to  the 
empty  air.  "But  I  am  going  away!  Nothing  ever 
happens  in  Millerstown.  Millerstown  is  nothing 
worth!"  Then  Katy  stood  still,  dizzy  with  all  the 
glorious  prospect  of  life.  "I  am  going  away!  I  am 
going  away!" 


CHAPTER  VII  , 

THE  BEE  CURE 

JANUARY  and  March  and  April  passed,  and  still 
Mr.  Carpenter  and  his  pupils  studied  diligently. 
David  Hartman  did  not  carry  out  his  threat  to  ex 
pose  Katy ;  such  a  course  would  have  been  impossible. 
Day  after  day  it  seemed  more  certain  that  his  father 
was  about  to  say  to  him  some  extraordinary  thing. 
He  saw  his  father  helping  himself  out  of  his  buggy 
with  a  hand  on  the  dashboard;  he  saw  that  hand 
tremble.  But  his  father  still  said  nothing.  That 
May  day  when  John  Hartman  would  at  last  begin 
to  right  the  wrong  he  had  done  had  not  yet  arrived. 

In  spite  of  all  Katy's  efforts  she  could  not  pass 
above  David  in  school.  Alvin  Koehler  needed  less 
and  less  help,  now  that  he  was  convinced  that 
through  learning  lay  the  way  to  ease  and  comfort, 
to  the  luxurious  possession  of  several  suits  of  clothes, 
to  a  seat  upon  a  platform.  Mr.  Carpenter  would 
never  have  to  do  hard  work;  Alvin  determined  to 
model  his  life  after  that  of  his  teacher.  He  scarcely 
spoke  to  his  father  now,  and  he  grew  more  and  more 
afraid  of  him. 

In  May  the  Millerstown  school  broke  its  fine 
record  for  diligence  and  steady  attendance.  The 
trees  were  in  leaf,  the  air  was  sweet,  the  sky  was 


106  IKATY  GAUMER 

dimmed  by  a  soft  haze,  as  though  the  creating  earth 
smoked  visibly.  Locust  blooms  filled  the  air  with 
their  wine-like  perfume,  flowers  starred  the  meadows. 
Grandmother  Gaumer's  garden  inside  its  stone  wall 
was  so  thickly  set  with  hyacinths  and  tulips  and 
narcissus  that  one  wondered  where  summer  flowers 
would  find  a  place.  Daily  Katy  gathered  armfuls  of 
purple  flags  and  long  sprays  of  flowering  currant 
and  stiff  branches  of  japonica  and  bestowed  them 
upon  all  who  asked.  Katy  learned  her  lessons  in  the 
garden  and  planned  for  the  future  in  the  garden  and 
thought  of  Alvin  in  the  garden. 

One  day,  unrest  came  suddenly  upon  the  Millers- 
town  boys;  imprisonment  within  four  walls  was  in 
tolerable.  Even  Katy,  yearning  for  an  education, 
was  affected  by  the  warmth  of  the  first  real  summer 
day,  and  Alvin  Koehler  wished  for  once  that  he  had 
learned  to  swim,  so  that  he  could  go  with  the  other 
boys  to  bathe  in  Weygandt's  dam.  Alvin  had  not 
yet  bought  the  red  necktie ;  money  was  more  scarce 
than  ever  this  spring.  Alvin's  whole  soul  demanded 
clothes.  He  reflected  upon  the  impression  he  had 
made  upon  Katy  Gaumer;  he  observed  the  blush 
which  reddened  the  smooth  cheek  of  Essie  Hill  at 
his  approach ;  he  was  increasingly  certain  that  his 
was  an  unusual  and  attractive  personality. 

All  through  the  long  May  afternoon,  Katy  studied 
with  great  effort,  wishing  that  she,  too,  had  played 
truant,  and  had  climbed  to  the  Sheep  Stable  as  she 
had  long  planned,  thereto  discover  the  full  volume 


KATY  GAUMER  107 

of  her  voice.  She  looked  across  at  Alvin,  but  Alvin 
did  not  look  back. 

All  the  long  afternoon  Alvin  gazed  idly  at  his 
algebra,  and  all  the  long  afternoon  David  Hartman 
and  Jimmie  Weygandt  and  Ollie  Kuhns  and  the  two 
Fackenthals  and  Billy  Knerr  and  Coonie  Schnable 
braved  the  wrath  of  Mr.  Carpenter  and  played  tru 
ant.  First  they  traveled  to  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
then  raced  each  other  down  over  rock  and  fallen 
tree;  and  then,  hot  and  tired,  plunged  into  Wey- 
gandt's  dam,  which  was  fed  by  a  cold  stream  from 
the  mountain.  When  the  water  grew  unendurable, 
they  came  out  to  the  bank,  rubbed  themselves  to 
a  glow  with  their  shirts,  and  hanging  the  shirts 
on  bushes  to  dry,  plunged  back  with  shouts  and 
splashing. 

Mr.  Carpenter  did  not  greatly  regret  their  ab 
sence.  Upon  him,  too,  spring  fever  had  descended; 
he  was  too  lazy  to  hear  thoroughly  the  lessons  of  the 
pupils  who  remained.  When  the  lowest  class  droned 
its  "ten  times  ten  iss  a  hundred, "  Mr.  Carpenter 
was  nodding;  when  they  sang  out  in  drowsy  mis 
chief,  "  'laven  times  'laven  iss  a  hundred  and  'laven," 
Mr.  Carpenter  was  asleep. 

Mr.  Carpenter  planned  no  immediate  punish 
ment  for  his  insubordinate  pupils.  The  threat  that 
he  would  tell  their  parents  would  be  a  powerful  and 
valuable  weapon  in  his  hands  for  the  rest  of  the 
term.  The  Millerstown  parents  had  fixed  theories 
about  the  heinousness  of  truancy. 


io8  KATY  GAUMER 

But  though  Mr.  Carpenter  planned  no  punish 
ment,  punishment  was  meted  out. 

The  stroke  of  the  gods  was  curiously  manifested. 
The  next  morning  the  disobedient  seven  ate  their 
breakfasts  in  their  several  homes,  in  apparently 
normal  health,  unless  a  sudden  frown  or  twist  of  lip 
or  an  outburst  of  bad  temper  might  be  said  to  con 
stitute  symptoms  of  disorder.  One  or  two  clung 
closely  to  the  kitchen  stove,  though  the  day  was 
even  warmer  than  yesterday,  and  David  Hartman 
visited  surreptitiously  the  cupboard  in  which  his 
mother  kept  the  cough  medicine  with  which  he  was 
occasionally  dosed.  With  a  wry  face  he  took  a  long 
swallow  from  the  bottle.  Ollie  Kuhns  hung  round 
his  neck  the  little  bag  filled  with  asafcedita,  which 
had  been  used  in  a  similar  manner  for  the  baby's 
whooping-cough,  and  Jimmie  Weygandt  applied  to 
himself  the  contents  of  a  flask  from  the  barn  win 
dow,  labeled  "Dr.  Whitcraft's  Embrocation,  Good 
for  Man  and  Beast." 

All  left  their  homes  and  walked  down  the  street 
with  the  stiff  uprightness  of  carriage  which  had 
prevented  their  families  from  realizing  how  griev 
ously  they  were  afflicted.  But  one  and  all,  they  for 
got  their  household  chores.  Billy  Knerr's  mother 
commanded  him  loudly  to  return  and  to  fill  the  coal 
bucket,  but  Billy  walked  on  as  calmly  as  though 
he  were  deaf,  and  turned  the  corner  into  the  alley 
with  a  thankful  sigh. 

There  his  erectness  vanished .  He  stood  and  rubbed 


KATY  GAUMER  109 

his  knee  with  a  mournful  "  By  Hedes!"  an  exclama 
tion  of  unknown  origin  and  supposed  profanity 
much  affected  by  him  and  his  friends,  and  hence 
forth  walked  with  a  limp.  A  little  ahead  was  Ollie 
Kuhns,  who,  when  shouted  at,  turned  round  bodily 
and  stood  waiting  as  stiff  and  straight  as  a  wooden 
soldier.  It  was  difficult  to  believe  that  this  was  the 
supple  "  Bosco,  the  Wild  Man,  Eats  'em  Alive,"  who 
rattled  his  chains  and  raised  his  voice  in  terrifying 
howls  in  the  schoolhouse  cellar. 

" Where  have  you  got  it?"  demanded  Billy. 

"In  my  neck.   I  cannot  move  my  head  an  inch." 

"  I  have  it  in  my  knee.  Indeed,  I  thought  I  would 
never  get  out  of  bed.  My  mom  is  hollering  after 
me  yet  to  fetch  coal,  but  I  could  not  fetch  coal  if 
they  would  chop  off  my  head  for  it." 

"Do  you  suppose  any  one  else  has  it  like  this?" 

Billy  did  not  need  to  answer.  The  alley  through 
which  they  walked  led  out  to  the  pike,  where  moved 
before  them  a  strange  procession.  The  vanquished 
after  a  battle  could  have  worn  no  more  agonized 
aspect,  could  not  have  been  much  more  strangely 
contorted. 

"  Both  my  arms  are  stiff,"  wailed  Coonie  Schnable. 
4 '  It  is  one  side  as  bad  as  the  other." 

"  I  can't  bend  over,"  announced  the  older  Facken- 
thal,  woefully.  "  I  gave  my  little  sister  a  penny  to  tie 
my  shoes  and  not  say  anything." 

"Did  any  of  you  tell  your  folks?"  demanded 
Ollie.  "  Because  if  you  did  we  will  all  get  thrashed." 


i  io  KATY  GAUMER 

A  spirited  "No!"  answered  the  insulting  ques 
tion. 

"I  got  one  licking  from  my  pop  last  week," 
mourned  Billy  Knerr.  "That  will  last,  anyhow  a 
while."  {The  pain  in  Billy's  knee  was  so  sharp  that 
sometimes,  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts,  tears  rolled 
down  his  cheeks.  "You'll  never  catch  me  in  that 
dam  again,  so  you  know  it!" 

"It  was  n't  the  dam,"  said  David  Hartman,  irri 
tably.  David  could  not  indicate  a  spot  on  his  body 
which  did  not  ache.  "We  were  too  hot  and  we  stayed 
too  long.  Ach!  Ouch!  I'll — "  The  other  pupils 
of  the  Millers  town  school  had  crowded  about  the 
sufferers  and  had  jostled  against  them  and  David 
turned  stiffly  upon  them  with  murder  in  his  heart. 
But  it  was  impossible  to  pursue  even  the  nearest 
offender,  Alvin  Koehler.  Instead  David  cried  baby- 
ishly,  "Just  you  wait  once  till  I  catch  you!" 

Not  for  the  world  would  unsuspecting  Alvin  have 
jostled  him  intentionally.  He  knew  better  than  to 
offer  to  any  schoolmate  a  gage  to  physical  conflict. 
They  were  too  strong  and  there  were  too  many  of 
them.  He  saw  the  jostled  David  speak  to  Billy 
Knerr;  he  saw  Billy  Knerr  approach  him  and  he 
turned,  ready  for  flight. 

Then  Alvin's  eyes  opened,  his  cheeks  flushed. 
Billy  called  to  him  in  a  tone  which  was  almost  be 
seeching,  "Wait  once,  Alvin!  Do  you  want  to 
make  some  money,  Alvin?" 

At  once  the  red  tie,  still  coveted  and  sighed  for, 


KATY  GAUMER  in 

danced  before  Alvin's  longing  eyes.  Money!  he 
would  do  anything  to  make  money!  He  stood  still 
and  let  Billy  approach,  not  quite  daring  to  trust 
him. 

"What  money ?"  he  asked,  hopefully,  yet  sus 
piciously. 

"Come  over  here  once,"  said  Billy. 

With  great  hope  and  at  the  same  time  with  deadly 
fear,  Alvin  ventured  toward  the  afflicted  crew. 

"We  have  the  rheumatism,"  explained  Billy. 

"Where? "  asked  Alvin  stupidly. 

/'Where!"  stormed  Ollie,  with  a  violence  which 
almost  ended  the  negotiations.  "Where!  In  our 
legs  and  our  backs  and  our  arms  and  our  eyelids." 
Ollie  was  not  one  to  wait  with  patience.  "We  will 
give  you  a  penny  each  for  a  bee  in  a  bottle.  Will 
you  sell  us  a  bee  in  a  bottle,  or  won't  you?" 

Alvin's  eyes  glittered;  fright  gave  place  to  joy. 
There  has  always  been  a  tradition  in  Millerstown 
that  the  sting  of  a  bee  will  cure  rheumatism.  The 
theory  has  nothing  to  do  with  witchcraft  or  pow 
wowing;  it  seems  more  like  the  brilliant  invention  of 
a  practical  joker.  Perhaps  improvement  was  coin 
cident  with  the  original  experiment,  or  perhaps  the 
powerful  counter-irritant  makes  the  sufferer  forget 
the  lesser  woe.  Bee  stings  are  not  popular,  it  must 
be  confessed;  they  are  used  as  a  last  resort,  like  the 
saline  infusion,  or  like  a  powerful  injection  of  strych 
nia  for  a  failing  heart. 

Strangers  had  often  come  to  be  stung  by  William 


ii2  KATY  GAUMER 

Koehler's  bees,  but  Alvin  had  never  heard  that  any 
of  them  were  cured.  Alvin  himself  had  tried  the 
remedy  once  for  a  bruise  with  no  good  result.  One 
patient  had  used  violent  language  and  had  demanded 
the  return  of  the  nickel  which  he  had  given  William, 
and  William  was  weak  enough  to  pass  it  over.  But 
now  the  red  tie  fluttered  more  and  more  enticingly 
before  Alvin's  eyes.  If  he  could  earn  seven  cents  by 
putting  seven  of  his  father's  bees  in  bottles,  well  and 
good.  It  made  no  difference  if  the  patients  were 
deceived  about  the  salutary  effects  of  bee  stings. 

Then  into  the  quickened  mind  of  Alvin  flashed  a 
brilliant  plan. 

"  I  will  do  it  for  three  cents  apiece,*'  he  announced 
with  craft.  "I  cannot  bann  [charm]  them  so  good 
as  pop.  They  will  perhaps  sting  me." 

Alvin's  daring  coup  was  successful. 

"Well,  three  cents,  then.  But  you  must  get 
them  here  by  recess."  Ollie  Kuhns  groaned.  He 
was  not  used  to  pain,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  his 
agony  was  spreading  to  fresh  fields.  "  Clear  out  or 
the  teacher  will  get  you  and  he  won't  let  ycu  go. 
He's  coming!" 

With  a  great  spring,  Alvin  dropped  down  on  the 
other  side  of  the  stone  fence,  and  lay  still  until  the 
teacher  had  shepherded  his  flock  into  the  school 
room.  By  this  time  not  only  the  red  tie,  but  a  whole 
new  suit  dazzled  the  eyes  of  Alvin.  Old  man  Facken- 
thal  bottled  his  cough  cure  and  sold  it  all  about  the 
county.  Why  should  not  bees  be  bottled  and  la- 


KATY  GAUMER  113 

beled  and  sold?  If  their  sting  was  supposed  to  be  so 
valuable  a  cure,  they  would  be  a  desired  commod 
ity.  Alvin  had  told  a  lie  when  he  had  said  he  could 
not  "bann"  bees  as  well  as  his  father,  for  he  had 
over  them  the  same  hypnotic  influence.  He  saw  him 
self  spending  the  rest  of  his  life  raising  them  and 
catching  them  and  bottling  them  and  selling  them. 
There  would  have  to  be  air  holes  through  the  corks 
of  the  bottles  so  that  they  could  breathe,  and  a  few 
drops  of  honey  within  to  nourish  them,  but  with 
these  provisions  they  could  be  shipped  far  and  wide. 

"They  would  be  powerful  mad  when  they  were 
let  out,"  said  Alvin  to  himself,  as  he  lay  in  the  lee 
of  the  schoolhouse  fence.  "The  people  would  get 
their  money's  worth.*' 

Alvin  saw  suddenly  all  the  old  people  in  the  world 
stiff  and  sore  and  all  the  young  people  afflicted  like 
Ollie  and  his  friends.  He  did  not  wish  for  any  of 
them  such  a  fate.  He  had  various  weaknesses,  but  a 
vindictive  spirit  was  not  one  of  them.  He  saw  only 
the  possibilities  of  a  great  business.  Hearing  the 
schoolhouse  bell,  and  knowing  that  all  were  safely 
within  doors,  he  started  across  the  fields  and  up  the 
mountain-side. 

The  bargain  was  consummated  in  the  woodshed, 
a  little  frame  building  leaning  against  the  blank 
wall  of  the  schoolhouse.  Alvin,  hurrying  back  from 
his  house,  scrambling  over  fences,  weary  from  his 
long  run,  thought  that  he  was  too  early  with  the 
wares  in  the  basket  on  his  arm.  Or  could  it  be,  alas ! 


ii4  KATY  GAUMER 

that  he  was  late  and  recess  was  over?  That  would 
be  too  cruel!  With  relief  he  heard  the  sound  of 
voices  in  the  woodshed  where  his  patients  awaited 
him. 

The  truants  had  endured  an  hour  and  a  half  of 
torture.  They  anticipated  punishment  for  yester 
day's  misdemeanor,  and  they  had  a  deadly  fear 
that  that  punishment  would  be  physical.  Anxiously 
now  from  the  woodshed,  where  they  could  lie  at 
their  ease,  they  listened  for  Alvin. 

"Perhaps  he  won't  come  back,"  suggested  Billy 
Knerr.  "Perhaps  he  cannot  catch  the  bees." 

Recess  was  all  over  but  five  minutes,  and  the  dis 
heartened  sufferers  were  expecting  the  bell,  when 
Alvin  appeared.  David  Hartman  had  collected  the 
money  against  such  necessity  for  haste,  and,  indeed, 
had  advanced  most  of  it  from  his  well-lined  pocket. 
Only  in  such  dire  trouble  would  he  have  treated  with 
Alvin  Koehler;  only  in  this  agony  would  he  have 
bought  from  any  one  such  a  pig  in  a  poke.  If  he  had 
been  himself,  he  would  have  made  Alvin  open  the 
basket  and  would  have  examined  the  contents  to 
be  sure  that  Alvin  was  playing  fair.  But  now,  with 
only  two  minutes  to  cure  himself  and  his  friends  of 
their  agony,  there  was  no  time  for  the  ordinary 
inspection  of  the  articles  of  trade. 

The  commodities  exchanged  hands;  twenty-one 
pennies  into  Alvin 's  outstretched  palm,  the  basket 
into  David's.  It  took  David  not  much  more  than 
one  of  his  hundred  and  twenty  seconds_to  open  the 


KATY  GAUMER  115 

basket  lid,  even  though  it  fitted  closely  and  needed 
prying.  A  low,  angry  murmur,  which  the  boys  had 
not  heard  in  their  pain,  changed  at  once  to  a  loud 
buzz,  and  suddenly  the  hearts  of  the  most  suffering 
failed  them.  But  the  basket  lid  was  off,  and  with  it 
came  the  lid  of  a  fruit  jar  which  stood  within.  The 
bees  were  not  in  separate  bottles  —  Alvin  maintained 
stoutly  that  separate  bottles  had  not  been  stipulated 
—  so  that  one  sting  could  be  applied  at  a  time,  like 
a  drop  of  medicine  from  a  pippette;  they  were, 
or,  rather,  they  had  been,  in  a  broad-mouthed  jar, 
whose  lid,  as  I  have  said,  came  off  with  the  basket 
lid. 

Moreover,  at  this  instant  the  door  of  the  woodshed, 
impelled  by  a  gentle  May  breeze,  blew  shut  and  the 
latch  dropped  on  the  outside.  There  were  seven 
boys  penned  into  the  woodshed  and  there  were  at 
least  a  hundred  bees.  Alvin  had  been  in  too  much  of 
a  hurry  to  count  the  precious  things  he  sold.  He 
had  held  the  jar  before  the  outlet  of  the  hive  and 
the  bees  had  rushed  into  it.  Granted  that  honey 
bees  sting  but  once,  and  granted  that  thirty  of 
these  bees  did  not  sting  at  all,  there  were  still  ten 
for  each  patient. 

Wildly  the  frantic  prisoners  batted  the  bees  about 
with  their  bare  hands.  There  were  no  hats,  there 
was  nothing  in  the  empty  woodshed  which  could  be 
used  as  a  weapon.  Piteously  they  yelled,  from  great 
David  Hartman  to  the  eldest  of  the  Fackenthals. 

The  uproar  reached  the  ears  of  Alvin,  who  was 


ii6  KATY  GAUMER 

just  entering  the  schoolhouse  door  and  Alvin  fled 
incontinently  to  the  gate  and  down  the  road.  It 
penetrated  to  the  schoolroom  and  brought  Mr.  Car 
penter  rushing  angrily  out.  He  had  rung  the  school 
bell ;  his  pupils  did  not  respond ;  he  thought  now  that 
their  yells  were  yells  of  defiance.  Emboldened  by 
yesterday's  success  they  had  arranged  some  new 
anarchy.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  faults  of 
Mr.  Carpenter,  he  was  physically  equal  to  such  a 
situation,  short  and  slender  though  he  was.  He  tore 
open  the  woodshed  door;  he  caught  Ollie  Kuhns 
and  shook  him  before  any  one  could  explain.  Then, 
as  he  reached  for  the  collar  of  David  Hartman,  one 
of  the  bees,  which  had  not  already  committed  sui 
cide  by  stinging,  lit  on  his  hand.  The  pain  did  little 
to  pacify  the  teacher.  The  boys,  seized  one  after  the 
other,  had  no  shame  strong  enough  to  keep  them 
from  crying.  Herded  into  the  schoolroom,  David  at 
the  tail  end  with  the  teacher's  grasp  on  his  ear,  they 
forgot  their  rheumatism,  they  forgot  the  girls,  they 
forgot  even  Alvin  himself,  who  was  by  this  time  fly 
ing  down  the  road.  They  laid  their  heads  upon  their 
desks,  and  Mr.  Carpenter,  dancing  about,  demanded 
first  of  one,  then  of  the  other,  an  explanation  of  this 
madness.  Mr.  Carpenter  forgot  his  objections  to 
Pennsylvania  German;  in  this  moment  of  deep  an 
guish  he  was  compelled  to  have  recourse  to  his  native 
tongue. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  roared  Mr.  Carpenter* 
"What  is  this  fuss?  Are  you  crazy?  You  will  catch 


KATY  GAUMER  117 

it !  Be  quiet !  Go  to  your  seats !  It  will  give  an  inves 
tigation  of  this  !  Ruhig!!" 

In  reality  Mr.  Carpenter  himself  was  producing 
most  of  the  confusion.  The  grief  of  those  at  whom 
he  stormed  was  silent;  they  still  sat  with  heads  bent 
upon  their  desks.  At  them  their  schoolmates  gaped, 
for  them  the  tender-hearted  wept. 

As  Alvin  flew  down  the  pike  he  began  to  be  fright 
ened.  He  was  not  repentant,  not  with  twenty-one 
coppers  in  his  pocket!  He  had  a  nickel  already  and 
now  the  beautiful  tie  was  his.  He  could  not  go  at 
once  to  purchase  it  for  fear  that  the  smitten  army 
behind  him  might  rally  and  pursue,  nor  did  he  wish 
to  hide  his  money  about  the  house  for  fear  that  his 
father  might  find  it.  He  decided  that  he  would  get 
himself  some  dinner  and  then  go  walking  upon  the 
mountain.  It  would  be  well  to  be  away  from  home 
until  the  time  for  his  father's  return.  To  his  house 
the  lame  legs  of  his  schoolmates  might  follow  him, 
there  their  lame  arms  seize  him,  but  to  the  Sheep 
Stable  they  could  not  climb.  He  did  not  realize 
that,  as  he  crossed  the  fields  above  his  father's  house, 
he  was  for  a  moment  plainly  exposed  to  the  view  of 
the  Millerstown  school. 

Tired,  certain  that  he  was  out  of  reach  of  the 
enemy,  Alvin  lay  down  on  the  great  rock  which 
formed  the  back  of  the  little  cave.  His  heart 
throbbed ;  he  was  not  accustomed  to  such  strenuous 
exertion  of  body  or  to  such  rapid  and  determined 
operations  of  mind.  He  was  even  a  little  frightened 


"8  KATY  GAUMER 

by  his  own  bravery  and  acuteness.  He  thought  for 
a  long  time  of  himself  and  for  a  little  time  of  Katy 
Gaumer  and  Essie  Hill;  then,  deliciously  comfort 
able  in  the  spring  sunshine,  he  fell  asleep. 

For  three  hours  Alvin  lay  still  on  the  great  rock. 
Occasionally  a  chestnut  blossom  drifted  down  on 
his  cheek,  and  was  brushed  drowsily  away;  occa 
sionally  the  chatter  of  a  squirrel,  impatient  of  this 
human  intrusion,  made  him  open  his  eyes  heavily. 
But  each  time  he  dropped  into  deeper  sleep.  The 
rock  was  hard,  but  Alvin  was  young  and,  besides, 
was  not  accustomed  to  a  soft  bed. 

At  the  end  of  three  hours  he  woke  suddenly.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  a  dark  cloud  had  covered  the 
sun  or  that  night  had  fallen.  But  a  worse  danger 
than  storm  or  darkness  was  at  hand. 

Above  him,  almost  touching  his  own,  bent  an 
angry  face. 

"Get  up!"  commanded  a  stern  voice,  and  Alvin 
slid  off  the  rock  and  stood  up. 

"Now,  fight,"  David  ordered.  "I  was  stiff  but  I 
am  not  so  much  stiff  any  more.  But  the  stiffness 
you  may  have  for  advantage.  One,  two,  three!" 

Even  with  the  handicap  of  stiffness,  the  advan 
tage  was  upon  the  side  of  David.  He  was  strong;  he 
was  furiously  and  righteously  angry;  he  had  been 
shamed  in  the  eyes  of  Millerstown.  Katy  Gaumer 
had  seen  his  ignominy;  she  had  whispered  about 
him  to  Sarah  Knerr.  Alvin  was  a  coward;  he  had 
long  been  cheating;  he  had  accepted  the  help  of  a 


KATY   GAUMER  119 

girl.  Besides,  Katy  Gaumer  was  kind  to  him.  For 
that  crime  his  punishment  had  long  been  gathering. 

Automatically  Alvin  raised  his  fist.  Below  them 
was  the  steep,  rock-piled  hillside ;  back  of  them  was 
the  rock  wall  of  the  Sheep  Stable ;  and  there  was  no 
help  nearer  than  Millerstown,  far  below  in  its  girdle 
of  tender  green.  Even  through  the  still  air  Alvin 's 
cries  could  not  be  heard  in  the  valley.  He  cried  out 
when  David  struck  him ;  he  begged  for  mercy  when 
David  laid  him  on  his  back  on  the  stony  ground. 
He  thought  that  there  was  now  no  hope  for  him ;  he 
was  certain  that  his  last  hour  had  come.  He  ex 
pected  that  David  would  hurl  him  down  over  the 
edge  of  the  precipice  to  the  sharp  rocks  far  below. 
He  closed  his  eyes  and  moaned. 

David  had  already  determined  to  let  his  victim 
go.  He  was  suddenly  deeply  interested  in  certain 
sensations  within  himself;  he  was  distracted  from 
his  intention  of  administering  to  Alvin  all  the  pun 
ishment  he  deserved.  He  felt  a  strange,  uplifted 
sensation,  a  consciousness  of  strength;  he  was  ex 
cited,  thrilled.  Never  before  in  his  life  had  he  acted 
so  swiftly,  so  entirely  upon  impulse.  The  yielding 
body  beneath  him,  Alvin's  fright,  made  him  seem 
powerful  to  himself.  The  world  was  suddenly  a  dif 
ferent  place ;  he  wanted  now  to  be  alone  and  to  think. 

But  David  had  no  time  to  think.  As  unexpectedly 
as  though  sent  from  heaven  itself  arrived  the  avenger. 
Katy  Gaumer  had  found  time  dull  and  heavy  on  her 
hands.  Alvin  had  vanished;  there  would  be  the 


120  KATY  GAUMER 

same  lessons  for  the  next  day  since  one  third  of  the 
class  was  absent  and  one  third  incapacitated.  Katy 
was  amused  at  the  tears  of  David  and  his  friends. 
A  bee  sting  was  nothing,  nor  yet  a  little  stiffness! 
Katy  had  been  once  stung  by  a  hornet  and  she  had 
had  a  sprained  ankle.  Katy's  heart  was  light;  she 
had  had  recently  new  compliments  from  the  doctor 
about  her  voice,  and  she  had  determined  that  this 
afternoon  she  would  ascend  to  the  Sheep  Stable  and 
startle  the  wide  valley  with  song. 

Katy  was  not  lame  or  afflicted ;  she  climbed  gayly 
the  mountain  road.  Nor  was  Katy  afraid.  She  would 
not  have  believed  that  any  evil  could  befall  one  so 
manifestly  singled  out  by  Providence  for  good  for 
tune.  She  sang  as  she  went;  therefore  she  did  not 
hear  the  wails  of  Alvin.  Alvin  cried  loudly  as  he  lay 
upon  the  ground ;  therefore  he  did  not  hear  the  song 
of  Katy. 

But  Alvin  felt  suddenly  the  weight  shoved  from 
his  body;  he  saw  the  conqueror  taken  unawares, 
thrust  in  his  turn  upon  the  ground ;  and  he  had  wit 
and  strength  enough  to  scramble  to  his  feet  when 
the  incubus  was  removed. 

"Shame  on  you!"  cried  the  figure  in  the  red 
dress  to  the  figure  prone  upon  the  ground.  "Shame 
on  you!  You  big,  ugly  boy ,  lie  there ! "  Katy  almost 
wept  in  her  wrath.  It  was  unfortunate  for  Katy  that 
she  should  have  been  called  upon  to  behold  one 
toward  whom  her  heart  was  already  unwisely  in 
clined  thus  in  need  of  pity  and  help. 


KATY  GAUMER  121 

To  Alvin's  amazement  the  conqueror,  a  moment 
ago  mighty  in  his  rage,  obeyed.  The  arrival  of  Katy, 
sudden  as  it  was  to  him,  was  even  more  sudden  to 
David.  David  was  overwhelmed,  outraged.  He  had 
not  wit  to  move ;  he  heard  Katy's  taunts,  saw  her 
stamp  her  foot;  he  heard  her  command  Alvin  to 
come  with  her,  saw  her  for  an  instant  even  take 
Alvin  by  the  hand,  and  saw  Alvin  follow  her.  His 
eyes  were  blinded ;  he  rubbed  them  cruelly,  then  he 
turned  over  on  his  face  and  dug  his  hands  into  the 
ground.  From  poor  David's  hot  throat  there  came 
again  that  childish  wail.  Conquered  thus,  David 
was  also  spiritless ;  he  began  to  cry,  ' '  I  want  her !  I 
want  her!  I  want  her!" 

Aching,  motionless,  he  lay  upon  the  ground.  With 
twitching  tail  the  squirrel  watched  from  his  bough, 
chattering  again  his  disgust  at  this  queer  human 
use  of  his  abiding-place.  The  air  grew  cool,  the 
blazing  sun  sank  lower,  and  David  lay  still. 

Meanwhile,  down  the  mountain  road  together 
went  Katy  Gaumer  and  Alvin  Koehler. 

"He  came  on  me  that  quick,"  gasped  Alvin.  He 
had  brushed  the  clinging  twigs  from  his  clothes  and 
had  smoothed  his  hair.  His  curls  lay  damp  upon  his 
forehead,  and  his  cheeks  were  scarlet,  his  chin  up 
lifted. 

Katy  breathed  hard. 

' 'Well,  I  came  on  him  quick,  too!" 

Alvin  began  to  gasp  nervously.  Self-pity  over 
whelmed  him. 


122  KATY  GAUMER 

"I  have  nothing  in  this  world,"  mourned  he. 
"This  summer  I  will  have  to  work  at  the  furnace. 
I  will  have  a  hard  life." 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  going  to  have  an  educa 
tion!"  cried  Katy. 

"I  cannot,"  mourned  Alvin.  " It  is  no  use  to  try. 
I  am  alone  in  the  world." 

Katy  turned  upon  him  a  glowing  face. 

"That  is  nonsense,  Alvin!  Everybody  can  have 
an  education.  There  are  schools  where  you  can 
study  and  work,  too.  It  is  so  at  the  normal  school 
where  they  learn  you  to  teach.  I  thought  you  were 
going  to  be  a  teacher,  Alvin ! ' ' 

"  I  was,"  said  Alvin.  "  I  would  like  to  be  a  teach 


er." 


"I  will  find  out  about  those  schools,"  promised 
Katy,  forever  eager  to  help,  to  plan.  "I  am  going 
away;  nothing  would  keep  me  in  Millerstown.  You 
must  surely  go,  Alvin!" 

"David  Hartman  can  have  everything,"  wailed 
Alvin,  his  aching  bones  making  themselves  felt. 
"He  had  no  business  to  come  after  me.  He  has  a 
rich  pop.  He — " 

"He  has  a  horrible  pop,"  answered  Katy.  "He 
chased  me  once  when  I  was  little,  and  I  never  did 
him  anything.  Why,  Alvin!"  Katy  stopped  in  the 
dusty  road.  "There  is  David's  pop  in  his  buggy  at 
your  gate!" 

Alvin  grew  deathly  pale,  he  remembered  his 
father's  madness,  his  threats,  the  crime  which  he 


KATY  GAUMER  123 

had  committed  and  which  he  blamed  upon  John 
Hartman. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  Katy.  "  What  ails  you,  Alvin? 
He  would  not  dare  to  touch  me  now  that  I  am  big. 
Come!" 

"No!"  Alvin  would  not  move.  "Look  once  at 
him,  Katy!  Something  is  the  matter  with  him!" 

"I  am  not  afraid,"  insisted  Katy  bravely.  "I 
am  —  he  is  sick,  Alvin ;  he  is  sitting  quiet  in  his 
buggy."  She  went  close  to  the  wheel.  "Mr.  Hart 
man!"  She  turned  and  looked  at  Alvin,  then  back 
at  the  figure  in  the  buggy.  "His  head  hangs  down, 
Alvin,  and  he  will  not  answer  me.  I  believe  he  is 
dead,  Alvin!" 

Slowly  Alvin  moved  to  Katy's  side.  He  laid  a  hand 
upon  her  arm  —  Katy  thought  it  was  to  protect 
her;  in  reality  Alvin  sought  support  in  his  deadly 
fear. 

"I  believe  it,  too,  Katy!" 

Speechlessly  the  two  gazed  at  each  other.  When 
Alvin  had  shouted  wildly  for  his  father  and  Katy 
had  joined  her  voice  to  his  and  there  was  no  answer, 
the  two  set  off,  hand  in  hand,  running  recklessly 
down  the  mountain  road. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WILLIAM   KOEHLER  MAKES  HIS  ACCUSATION  FOR 
THE  LAST  TIME 

DUSK  was  falling  when  David  started  down  the 
mountain  road.  He  did  not  walk  rapidly;  some 
times,  in  his  weakness,  he  stumbled.  Bad  as  his 
aches  had  been  when  he  climbed  the  mountain  hours 
before,  they  were  worse  now,  and  added  to  them  was 
smart  of  soul.  Every  spot  on  his  body  upon  which 
Katy  had  laid  her  hand  burned ;  she  was  continually 
before  his  eyes  in  her  kaleidoscopic  motions,  now 
running  down  the  pike  from  school,  now  storming 
at  him  as  he  lay  on  the  ground.  He  tried  to  hate 
her,  but  he  could  not.  As  he  stumbled  along,  his  feet 
kept  time  to  a  foolish  wail,  "I  want  her!  I  want 
her!"  The  glow  of  triumph  had  faded  entirely; 
David  was  more  morose,  more  sullen,  more  unhappy 
than  ever.  His  anger  with  Alvin  had  changed  to  a 
sly  intention  to  scheme  against  him  until  he  could 
give  him  a  greater  punishment  than  a  mere  beating. 
He  was  not  done  with  Alvin!  His  own  father  was 
a  rich  and  powerful  man ;  Alvin's  father  was  a  poor, 
half-witted  thief.  He  thought  for  the  first  time  with 
satisfaction  of  his  father's  wealth. 

The  young  moon  overhead,  the  scent  of  spring 
in  the  air,  the  gentle  breeze  against  his  cheek,  all 


KATY  GAUMER  125 

deepened  his  misery  and  loneliness.  He  said  to  him 
self  that  he  had  no  one  in  the  world.  In  spite  of 
his  vague  conclusions  about  his  father,  his  father 
was  still  the  same.  There  are  persons  whose  success 
depends  wholly  upon  their  relations  with  the  human 
beings  nearest  to  them.  Given  affection,  they  ex 
pand;  denied  it,  their  souls  contract,  their  powers 
fail.  It  is  a  weakness  of  the  human  creature,  but  it 
is  none  the  less  real.  Resentment  was  rapidly  be 
coming  a  settled  attitude  of  David's  mind ;  his  father 
was  postponing  dangerously  that  opening  of  his 
heart  to  his  son  of  which  he  thought  day  and  night. 

David  wished  now  that  he  need  not  go  home;  he 
wished  —  poor  little  David !  —  that  he  was  dead.  He 
would  have  his  supper  and  he  would  go  to  bed,  and 
to-morrow  there  would  be  another  bitter  day.  He 
would  sit  in  school  and  be  conscious  of  Katy  and 
Alvin  and  their  knowing  glances,  and  love  and  hate 
would  tear  him  asunder  once  more. 

Then  David  stood  still  and  looked  down  upon 
his  house.  Even  though  the  trees  about  it  were 
thickly  leafed,  he  could  see  lights  in  unaccustomed 
places.  The  parlor  was  lighted ;  in  that  room  David 
could  not  remember  an  illumination  in  his  lifetime. 
There  were  lights  also  in  bedrooms  —  David  forgot 
his  aches  of  body  and  soul  in  his  astonishment.  He 
slept  over  the  kitchen  in  one  of  the  little  rooms  his 
father  had  provided  for  the  day  when  servants 
should  attend  upon  the  wants  of  his  children; 
except  for  his  father's  and  mother's  room  the  front 


126  KATY  GAUMER 

of  the  house  was  never  opened.  Had  some  great 
stranger  come  to  visit  —  but  that  was  unthinkable ! 
Was  some  one  ill  —  but  that  would  be  no  reason  for 
the  opening  of  the  house !  David  did  not  know  what 
to  make  of  the  strange  sight.  He  hurried  down  the 
road,  almost  falling  as  he  ran. 

Then  David  stood  still,  looking  stupidly  at  a 
dark  wagon  which  stood  before  the  gate.  He  knew 
the  ownership  and  the  purpose  of  that  vehicle,  but 
he  could  not  connect  it  with  his  house.  There  dwelt 
only  his  father  and  his  mother  and  himself,  and  all 
of  them  were  alive  and  well. 

A  group  of  children  lingered  near  by,  silent,  star 
ing  at  the  dark  wagon  and  the  brightly  lighted  win 
dows.  The  Hartman  house  with  its  illumination 
was  as  strange  a  phenomenon  as  the  Millerstown 
children  had  ever  seen.  To  them  David,  still  stand 
ing  at  his  gate,  put  a  question. 

" What  is  the  matter?" 

Instantly  a  small,  excited,  feminine  voice  piped 
out  an  answer. 

"  Your  father  is  dead." 

"He  was  sitting  in  his  buggy  in  the  mountain 
road,"  another  excited  voice  went  on.  "They 
brought  him  down  here  and  carried  him  in." 

David  went  into  the  yard  and  along  the  flag  walk, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  entered  his  father's 
house  by  the  wide-open  front  door,  through  which 
various  Millerstonians  were  passing  in  and  out. 
This  was  a  great  opportunity  for  Millerstown. 


KATY  GAUMER  127 

Some  one  came  out  of  the  parlor,  leaving  the  door 
ajar,  and  David  saw  a  long  dark  figure  lying  on  a 
low  couch  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  What  there 
was  to  be  known  about  his  father's  death  he  gathered 
from  the  conversation  of  those  about  him.  He  heard 
pitying  exclamations,  he  felt  that  in  a  moment  he 
would  burst  into  cries  of  shock  and  terror.  Bitter 
ness  fled,  he  was  soft-hearted,  weak,  childlike.  His 
father  was  gone,  but  there  remained  another  person. 
He  must  find  her;  in  her  lay  his  refuge;  she  must  be 
his  stay,  as  he  must  henceforth  be  hers.  Stumbling 
back  through  the  hall  toward  the  kitchen,  he  sought 
his  mother.  He  was  aware  of  the  kind  looks  of  those 
about  him;  his  whole  being  was  softened. 

"Mother!"  he  meant  to  cry.  "Oh,  mother! 
mother!" 

He  felt  her  grief;  he  expected  to  find  her  prostrate 
on  the  old  settle,  or  sitting  by  the  table  with  her 
head  on  her  arm,  weeping.  He  would  comfort  her; 
he  would  be  a  good  son  to  her;  he  truly  loved 
her. 

From  the  kitchen  doorway  he  heard  her  voice, 
clear  and  toneless,  the  voice  of  every  day.  She  was 
giving  orders  to  the  Millerstown  women  who  had 
hastened  in  with  offers  of  help,  —  to  Grandmother 
Gaumer  and  Sarah  Knerr  and  Susannah  Kuhns. 
She  indicated  certain  jars  of  canned  fruit  which 
were  to  be  used  for  the  funeral  dinner,  and  planned 
for  the  setting  of  raised  cake  and  the  baking  of  "fine 
cake."  In  Cassie's  plan  for  her  life,  she  had  pre- 


128  KATY  GAUMER 

pared  for  this  contingency;  even  now  her  iron  will 
was  not  broken,  nor  her  stern  composure  lost.  She 
moved  about  as  David  had  always  seen  her  move, 
quiet,  capable,  self -centered.  She  shed  no  tear;  she 
seemed  to  David  to  take  actual  pleasure  in  planning 
and  contriving. 

The  frantic  cry,  already  on  David 's  lips,  died 
silently  away,  his  throat  stiffened,  he  drew  a  long 
breath.  For  an  instant  he  stood  still  in  the  door 
way;  then,  with  a  bent  and  sullen  head,  he  turned 
and  crept  back  through  the  hall  to  the  front  stairs, 
which  had  scarcely  ever  been  touched  by  his  foot, 
and  thence  to  his  tiny  room,  where  he  knelt  down  by 
his  narrow  bed.  How  terrible  was  the  strange  figure 
under  the  black  covering,  with  the  blazing  lights 
beating  upon  it,  and  the  staring  villagers  stealing  in 
to  look !  It  seemed  incredible  that  his  father  could 
lie  still  and  suffer  their  scrutiny.  He  wished  that  he 
might  go  down  and  turn  them  out.  But  he  did  not 
dare  to  trust  his  voice,  and  besides,  his  mother  ac 
cepted  it  all  as  though  it  were  proper  and  right. 
Then  David  forgot  the  intruders,  forgot  his  mother. 
His  father  was  dead,  of  whom  he  had  often  thought 
unkindly,  and  his  father  was  all  he  had  in  the  world. 
He  would  never  be  able  to  speak  to  him  again,  never 
be  able  to  lay  a  hand  upon  his  shoulder  as  he  sat 
reading  his  paper,  never  meet  again  that  sudden 
glance  of  incomprehensible  distress.  Death  worked 
its  alchemy;  now  at  last  the  poor  father  had  his  way 
with  his  son's  heart. 


KATY  GAUMER  129 

"He  was  my  father!"  cried  David.  "I  have  no 
father!" 

His  breath  choked,  his  heart  seemed  to  smother 
him;  he  felt  himself  growing  light-headed  as  he 
knelt  by  the  low  bed.  He  had  had  nothing  to  eat 
since  noon ;  he  had  had  since  that  time  many  things 
to  suffer;  he  thought  suddenly  in  his  exhaustion 
that  perhaps  he,  too,  was  about  to  die. 

Presently  there  was  a  step  in  the  hall  and  his 
heart  leaped.  Perhaps  his  mother  had  come,  per 
haps  she  did  not  wish  to  show  her  grief  to  these 
curious  people.  But  the  person  outside  knocked 
at  the  door  and  his  mother  would  not  have  knocked. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  David. 

"It  is  me,"  said  Bevy.  "I  brought  you  a  little 
something  to  eat." 

Bevy  waited  outside,  plate  and  glass  in  hand. 
She  had  seen  David's  entrance  and  exit.  Prompted 
now  partly  by  kindness  and  sympathy,  and  partly 
by  an  altogether  human  and  natural  curiosity  to 
see  as  much  of  the  house  and  the  bereaved  family 
as  she  could,  Bevy  had  carried  him  his  supper.  But 
Bevy  was  not  rewarded,  as  she  had  hoped. 

"Put  it  down,"  commanded  a  voice  from  within. 
"Thank  you." 

Bevy  made  another  effort. 

"Do  you  want  anything,  David?" 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  the  voice  again. 

"Yes,  well,"  answered  Bevy  and  went  down  the 
front  steps.  If  Bevy  could  have  had  her  wish,  her 


130  KATY  GAUMER 

whole  body  would  have  been  one  great  eye  to  take 
in  all  this  magnificence  of  thick  carpets  and  fine 
furniture. 

Then,  while  the  mother  for  whom  he  hungered 
made  her  plans  for  the  great  funeral  feast,  still  cus 
tomary  in  country  sections,  where  mourners  came 
from  a  long  distance,  and  while  Katy  Gaumer  re 
counted  to  curious  Millerstown  how  she  had  found 
John  Hartman  sitting  in  his  buggy  by  the  roadside, 
David  ate  the  raised  cake  and  drank  the  milk  which 
Bevy  brought  him.  Then  he  sat  down  by  the  win 
dow  and  looked  out  into  the  dark  foliage  which  on 
this  side  touched  the  house.  It  had  not  been  John 
Hartman's  plan  to  have  his  house  grow  damp  in  the 
shadow  of  overhanging  branches,  but  John  Hart 
man  had  long  since  forgotten  his  plans  for  every 
thing. 

Sitting  here  in  the  darkness,  David  thought  of  his 
father.  The  puzzle  of  that  strange  character  he 
could  not  solve,  but  one  thing  became  clear  to  his 
mind.  He  saw  again  that  yearning  gaze;  he  re 
membered  from  the  dim,  almost  impenetrable  mist 
which  surrounded  his  childhood,  caresses,  laughter, 
the  strong  grasp  of  his  father's  arms.  Finally  he  lay 
down  on  the  bed  and  went  to  sleep,  a  solemn,  com 
forting  conclusion  in  his  heart. 

"My  father  loved  me,"  whispered  David.  "I  am 
sure  my  father  loved  me." 

A  little  later  David's  mother  opened  his  door 
softly  and  entering  stood  by  his  bed.  She  had  not 


KATY  GAUMER  131 

seen  him  in  the  kitchen;  some  one  had  told  her  that 
he  had  come  in  and  had  gone  to  his  room.  She  saw 
that  he  was  covered  and  that  the  night  air  did  not 
blow  upon  him,  and  then  she  took  the  empty  plate 
and  glass  and  went  back  to  the  kitchen. 

Alvin  Koehler  need  not  have  suspected  his  father 
of  having  had  any  hand  in  the  death  of  John  Hart- 
man.  William  Koehler  was  in  the  next  village,  where 
he  had  half  a  day's  work.  While  he  worked  he  plotted 
and  planned  and  mumbled  to  himself  about  his 
wrongs.  It  was  apoplexy  which  had  killed  John 
Hartman  as  he  drove  up  the  mountain  road;  Dr. 
Benner  told  of  his  warnings,  recalled  to  the  mind  of 
Millerstown  the  scarlet  flush  which  had  for  a  long 
time  reddened  John  Hartman's  face.  If  he  had 
taken  the  path  so  long  avoided  by  him  in  order  to 
confess  his  crime  to  the  man  he  had  wronged  and 
thus  begin  to  make  his  peace  with  God,  he  had  set 
too  late  upon  that  journey,  for  his  hour  had  been 
appointed.  When  William,  walking  heavily,  with 
his  eyes  on  the  ground,  came  home  from  Zion 
Church,  John  Hartman  lay  already  in  the  best  room 
of  his  house,  his  earthly  account  closed.  When  he 
heard  the  news  of  John  Hartman's  death,  William 
seemed  stupefied;  it  was  hard  to  believe  that  he 
understood  what  was  said  to  him. 

It  was  not  necessary  that  any  provision  should  be 
made  beyond  the  great  dinner  for  the  entertainment 
of  guests  at  the  Hartman  house.  Nevertheless,  the 
house  was  cleaned  and  put  in  order  from  top  to 


132  KATY  GAUMER  ] 

bottom  for  its  master's  burying.  Fluted  pillow  and 
sheet  shams  and  lace-trimmed  pillow-cases  were 
brought  forth,  great  feather  beds  were  beaten  into 
smoothness,  elaborate  quilts  were  unfolded  from  pro 
tective  wrappings  and  were  aired  and  refolded  and 
laid  at  the  foot  of  beds  covered  with  thick  white 
counterpanes.  There  was  dusting  and  sweeping  and 
scrubbing,  and,  above  all,  a  vast  amount  of  cooking 
and  baking.  The  funeral  was  to  be  held  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  afterwards  there  would  be  food  at  the  Hart- 
man  house  for  all  those  who  wished  to  partake. 

Cassie  was  fitted  with  a  black  dress,  various  bon 
nets  were  sent  out  from  the  county  seat  for  her  to 
try,  and  over  each  was  draped  the  long  black  veil 
of  widowhood,  —  this,  to  Cassie,  in  the  opinion  of 
Millerstown,  a  crown  of  independence.  Millerstown 
could  form  no  judgment  of  Cassie's  feelings.  If  she 
had,  like  William  Koehler,  any  moment  of  stupe 
faction,  or,  like  David,  any  wild  outburst  of  grief, 
that  fact  was  kept  from  a  curious  world. 

David  also  was  fitted  with  a  suit  of  black,  and 
together  he  and  his  mother  rode  in  a  closed  carriage, 
sent  from  the  county  seat,  down  through  pleasant 
Millerstown  in  the  May  sunshine  and  out  to  the 
church  on  the  hill. 

The  service  was  long,  as  befitted  the  dignity  of  a 
man  of  prominence  like  John  Hartman  who  had 
always  given  liberally  to  charitable  objects,  though 
he  had  become  of  late  years  an  infrequent  attendant 
at  church  meetings.  The  preacher  who  had  heard 


KATY  GAUMER  133 

the  accusation  of  William  Koehler  was  long  since 
gone;  the  present  pastor  who  lauded  the  Christian 
life  of  the  dead  man  knew  nothing  of  any  charge 
against  him.  He  would  scarcely  have  known 
William  by  sight,  so  entirely  had  William  separated 
himself  from  the  life  of  the  village.  The  preacher 
had  a  deep,  moving  voice,  he  spoke  with  feeling  of 
the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  of  the  crown  laid 
up  for  them  in  heaven.  Many  of  the  congregation 
wept,  some  in  recollection  of  their  own  dead,  some 
in  sad  anticipation  of  that  which  must  some  day 
befall  themselves,  and  some  in  grief  for  John  Hart- 
man.  Two  men,  sitting  in  opposite  corners  of  the 
gallery,  bowed  their  heads  on  the  backs  of  the 
benches  before  them  so  that  their  tears  might  drop 
unseen.  Oliver  Kuhns,  the  elder,  stayed  at  home 
from  the  funeral  and  at  home  from  his  work,  and 
watched  from  the  window  the  procession  entering 
the  church,  and  wept  also.  John  Hartman  was  not 
without  mourners  who  called  him  blessed ! 

David  and  his  mother  sat  in  the  front  pew,  near 
the  body,  which  had  been  placed  before  the  pulpit. 
Upon  David  had  settled  a  heavy  weight  of  horror. 
He  had  not  yet  accustomed  himself  to  the  fact  of  his 
father's  death.  Only  a  few  days  before  he  had  seen 
his  father  moving  about,  had  sought  to  read  the 
enigmatic  expression  in  his  eyes.  But  here  his  father 
lay,  dead.  Living  he  would  never  have  suffered 
these  stares,  this  weeping.  Upon  David,  also,  rested 
the  interested,  inquisitive  eyes.  From  the  gallery 


134  KATY  GAUMER 

Katy  Gaumer  looked  down  upon  him;  from  a  seat 
near  her  Alvin  Koehler  stared  about.  The  smother 
ing  desire  to  cry  rushed  over  David  once  more;  he 
slipped  his  hand  inside  his  stiff  collar  as  though  to 
choke  off  the  rising  sob.  Beside  him  rose  the  black 
pillar  of  his  mother's  crape;  on  the  other  side  was 
the  closed  door  of  the  old-fashioned  pew.  He  was 
imprisoned ;  for  him  there  was  no  escape.  The  serv 
ice  would  never  end;  here  he  would  be  compelled 
to  sit,  forever  and  ever. 

Then,  suddenly,  to  the  startled  eyes  of  David  and 
of  Millerstown,  there  rose  in  the  right-hand  gallery 
the  short,  bent  figure  of  a  man.  The  preacher  did 
not  see;  Millerstown  sat  paralyzed.  They  had  never 
been  really  afraid  of  William  Koehler,  queer  as  he 
was,  but  now  there  was  madness  in  his  face.  His 
eyes  blazed,  his  cheeks  were  pale,  he  had  scarcely 
touched  food  since  he  had  heard  of  the  death  of  his 
enemy.  He  had  not  gone  to  work;  he  had  sat  in  his 
little  house  talking  to  himself,  and  praying  that  he 
might,  after  all,  have  some  sort  of  revenge  upon  the 
man  who  had  wronged  him.  Several  weeks  ago  he 
had  consulted  a  new  detective,  who,  in  the  hope  of 
getting  a  fee,  or  wishing  to  have  an  excuse  for  get 
ting  rid  of  him,  had  given  him  fresh  encourage 
ment.  The  sudden  ending  of  his  hopes  was  all  the 
more  cruel. 

"  I  have  something  to  say,*'  he  announced  now  in 
his  shrill  voice.  "This  man  lying  here  is  not  a  good 
man.  I  have  this  to  say  about  him.  He  —  he  — " 


j 


KATY  GAUMER  135 

Then  poor  William  paused.  Already,  to  his  terror, 
in  spite  of  his  practicing,  the  words  were  slipping 
away  from  him.  He  had  planned  to  tell  the  story 
carefully,  impressing  each  detail  upon  the  large 
congregation  which  would  gather  at  the  funeral. 
They  must  listen  to  him.  It  would  be  useless  to  cry 
out  suddenly  the  whole  truth,  that  John  Hartman 
was  a  thief  —  he  had  tried  that  once,  and  had  been 
silenced  by  the  preacher.  The  detective  had  said 
that  he  must  get  all  his  proofs  carefully  together. 
He  had  arranged  them  in  his  poor,  feeble  mind ;  he 
meant  to  speak  as  convincingly  as  the  preacher  him 
self.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  smooth  gray  wall 
beside  the  puplit  cupboard ;  the  sight  of  it  helped  to 
keep  his  mind  clear.  There  he  had  been  working  on 
the  day  when  the  communion  set  was  taken. 

He  rubbed  his  damp  hands  down  the  sides  of  his 
dusty  suit,  and  a  flush  came  into  his  cheeks.  He 
remembered  clearly  once  more  what  he  had  to  say. 

''I  was  building  up  the  wall,"  he  said  with  great 
precision.  "I  —  " 

Stupidly  he  halted.  He  began  to  grow  frightened; 
the  unfriendly  faces  paralyzed  his  brain;  the  words 
he  had  planned  so  carefully  slipped  all  at  once  away 
from  him.  He  pointed  at  the  still  figure  lying  in 
front  of  the  pulpit  and  burst  into  vehement,  frantic 
speech. 

"He  stole  the  communion  set!"  he  cried  shrilly. 
"He  stole  it!  He  —  " 

Poor  William  got  no  further.  Many  persons  rose. 


136  KATY  GAUMER 

The  two  men  in  opposite  corners  of  the  gallery  who 
had  wept  started  toward  him ;  one  of  them  opened 
his  lips,  as  though,  like  crazy  William,  he  was  about 
to  address  the  congregation.  The  paralyzed  specta 
tors  came  to  their  senses.  Hands  were  laid  upon 
William.  The  deacons  and  elders  of  the  church 
went  toward  the  gallery  steps,  Grandfather  Gaumer 
among  them.  Even  Alvin  in  his  mortification  and 
shame  had  still  feeling  enough  to  go  to  his  father's 
side. 

"Come  away,  pop!"  he  begged.  "Ach,  be  quiet, 
pop,  and  come  away!" 

"He  tells  me  to  be  quiet!"  cried  William  in  the 
same  shrill  tone.  "My  son  tells  me  to  be  quiet!" 

Grandfather  Gaumer  laid  a  firm  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Come  with  me,  William." 

But  William  was  not  to  be  got  so  quietly  away. 
In  the  front  pew  young  David  had  risen.  Was  his 
father  not  now  to  have  a  decent  burying?  David's 
face  was  aflame;  he  did  not  see  the  madness  in  the 
shivering  figure  and  the  bright  eyes  of  William 
Koehler.  William  belonged  with  his  son  Alvin,  and 
both  were  hateful. 

But  David  had  no  chance  to  speak.  The  preacher 
foolishly  held  up  a  forbidding  hand  to  poor  Wil 
liam. 

"You  cannot  say  such  a  thing  at  this  time  and 
not  confess  that  it  is  not  true.  The  accused  cannot 
answer  for  himself." 


KATY  GAUMER  137 

Poor  William  rubbed  his  hands  over  his  eyes.  He 
still  had  great  respect  for  the  authority  of  preachers. 
Besides,  he  saw  John  Hartman  suddenly  as  a  dead 
man,  and  since  his  trouble  he  had  always  been 
afraid  of  death.  No  revenge  could  be  visited  upon 
this  deaf,  impassible  object,  that  was  sure! 

"Ach,  I  forget  my  mind!"  wailed  poor  William. 
"I  forget  my  mind!" 

Then  William  could  have  been  led  unresisting 
away.  But  the  preacher,  stupidly  insistent,  held  up 
his  hand  again. 

"  Do  you  confess  that  your  accusation  is  not  true?  " 
said  he. 

William  placed  a  hand  on  either  side  of  his  fore 
head.  It  seemed  as  though  his  head  were  bursting 
and  he  must  hold  it  close  together.  There  was  now 
a  murmur  of  speech  in  the  congregation.  This  terri 
ble  scene  had  gone  on  long  enough ;  John  Hartman 
did  not  need  defense  from  so  absurd  an  accusation. 
Then  the  murmur  ceased. 

"No!"  cried  William.  "  It  is  not  true.  I  took  the 
communion  set  myself!" 

William  was  now  led  away,  a  final  seal  put  upon 
the  pit  in  which  his  honesty  and  sanity  lay  buried. 
Another  unforgivable  offense  was  added  to  the  sum 
of  unforgivable  offenses  of  the  son  of  William 
Koehler  toward  young  David.  The  confession  did 
not  help  the  Millerstown  church  to  recover  its 
beautiful  silver.  William's  insanity,  the  congrega 
tion  thought,  was  the  only  bar  to  its  recovery. 


138  KATY  GAUMER 

John  Hartman  was  laid  in  the  grave  which  had 
been  walled  up  by  the  mason  who  had  taken  William 
Koehler's  place  in  Millerstown,  and  which  had  been 
lined  with  evergreens  and  life  everlasting  according 
to  Millerstown's  tender  custom.  Over  him  prayers 
were  said  and  another  hymn  was  sung,  "  Aus  tiefer 
Noth  shrei  ich  zu  dir"  (Out  of  the  depths  I  cry  to 
thee),  familiar  to  generations  of  Millerstown's  af 
flicted.  Then  the  procession  returned  to  John  Har- 
man's  great  house,  whispering  excitedly. 

David  sat  in  his  room  during  the  funeral  dinner. 
David  was  queer ;  he  was  not  expected  to  do  as  other 
people  did.  His  fury  with  the  Koehlers  took  his 
thoughts  to  some  extent  away  from  his  grief. 

That  night  Cassie  did  not  sleep  in  the  great,  com 
fortable  room  at  the  front  of  the  house  which  she 
had  shared  with  her  husband,  but  in  a  room  even 
smaller  than  David's  at  the  back.  It  contained, 
instead  of  the  great  walnut  four-poster,  with  its 
high-piled  feather  bed  to  which  she  was  accustomed, 
a  little  painted  pine  bedstead  and  a  chaff  bag;  it  was 
on  the  north  corner  of  the  house  and  was  cold  in 
winter  and  deprived  of  the  breeze  by  the  thick 
foliage  in  summer.  Her  husband's  fortune  was  left 
to  her  while  she  lived;  afterwards  it  was  to  go  to 
David.  Cassie  was  amply  able  to  manage  it,  the 
investments  were  safe,  the  farmers  had  been  in  her 
husband's  employ  many  years;  it  was  not  likely  that 
anything  would  disturb  the  smooth,  dull  current  of 
Cassie's  life. 


KATY  GAUMER  139 

There  was  much  discussion  in  Millerstown  about 
whether  it  was  safe  for  the  community  to  allow 
William  Koehler  to  be  at  large ;  there  was  some  com 
ment  upon  the  cooking  at  the  Hartman  funeral 
dinner;  then  Millerstown  turned  its  attention  to 
other  things.  Cassie  had  behaved  just  as  she  might 
have  been  expected  to  behave.  It  was  surprising, 
however,  that  she  had  let  Millerstown  go  so  thor 
oughly  through  her  house. 

The  day  after  the  funeral  David  went  back  to  the 
Millerstown  school.  He  did  not  glance  in  the  di 
rection  of  Katy  and  Alvin,  though  he  could  not 
help  realizing  that  Katy's  skirts  did  not  flirt  so 
gayly  past.  Katy  was  sorry  for  him,  though  she  did 
not  repent  her  treatment  of  him.  Her  dresses  had 
suddenly  dropped  several  inches,  her  flying  curls 
were  twisted  up  on  her  head,  her  eyes  were  brighter 
than  ever.  She  was  filled  with  herself  and  her  own 
concerns  and  opinions;  she  grew  daily  more  dicta 
torial,  more  lordly. 

"I  am  going  away!"  said  she,  upon  rising/ 
"I  am  going  to  be  educated!"  said  she  at  noon." 
11 1  can  take  education,"  said  she  at  night.  -"I 
thank  God  I  am  not  dumb!" 

t  She  and  Grandmother  Gaumer  were  increasingly 
busy  with  dressmakers'  patterns  and  with  "Lists  of 
Articles  to  be  provided  by  Students."  Life  was  at 
high  tide  for  Katy  Gaumer. 

Still  David  kept  at  the  head  of  his  class.  In  his 
mind  a  slow  plan  was  forming.  He  would  think  of 


KATY  GAUMER 

Katy  no  more,  of  that  he  was  determined,  and  he 
would,  as  a  means  of  accomplishing  that  end,  leave 
Millerstown.  His  mother  was  a  rich  woman;  he 
could  do  anything  in  the  world  he  liked.  He  would 
first  of  all  go  to  college.  Afterwards  he  would  study 
law. 

In  June  he  started  late  one  Sunday  afternoon  to 
walk  to  the  Sheep  Stable.  Overwhelmed  as  he  had 
been  upon  that  spot,  he  loved  it  too  well  to  stay 
away.  The  heavenly  prospect  was  part  of  his  life's 
fabric  and  would  continue  to  be  all  his  days. 

As  he  passed  the  Koehler  house,  he  heard  a 
strange  sound,  apparently  an  unending  repetition 
of  the  same  phrase.  It  was  William  Koehler  at  his 
prayers  —  Millerstown  knew  now  for  what  William 
prayed ! 

"God  will  punish  him!"  said  David  with  a  hot, 
dry  throat.  "  If  there  is  a  God  "  —  thus  said  David 
in  his  foolish  youth  —  "if  there  is  a  God,  he  will 
punish  him!  Oh,  I  wish,  I  wish  I  could  see  my 
father!" 

At  the  Sheep  Stable,  as  one  who  opens  the  book 
of  the  dim  past,  David  took  his  pipe  and  cards  from 
their  hiding-place  and  hurled  them  far  down  the 
mountain-side.  He  even  managed  to  smile  a  little 
sorely  at  himself. 

It  was  dark  when  he  returned  to  the  village.  He 
did  not  like  to  walk  about  in  the  early  evenings,  past 
the  groups  of  Millerstonians  on  the  doorsteps;  they 
talked  about  him,  and  he  did  not  like  to  be  talked 


KATY  GAUMER  141 

about.  Now  almost  all  Millerstown  had  gone  to 
church.  The  pastor  of  the  Improved  New  Mennon- 
ites  was  conducting  a  meeting  in  a  neighboring  vil 
lage,  but  there  was  service  in  all  the  other  churches. 
A  few  persons  sat  on  their  doorsteps,  listening  quietly 
to  the  music  which  filled  the  air,  —  the  sound  of 
the  beautiful  German  hymns  of  the  Lutherans  and 
the  Reformed,  and  the  less  classic  compositions  of  the 
New  Baptists.  Millerstown  was  like  a  great  common 
room  on  summer  evenings,  with  the  friendly  sky  for 
ceiling. 

Again  the  young  moon  rode  high  in  the  heavens; 
again  David's  young  blood  throbbed  in  his  veins; 
again  the  miserable,  unmanly  desire  for  the  girl 
who  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  him  began  to 
devour  him.  He  bit  his  lips,  wondering  drearily 
where  he  should  go  and  what  he  should  do.  The 
night  had  just  begun;  he  would  not  be  sleepy  for 
hours.  Nothing  invited  him  to  the  kitchen  or  to  the 
two  little  bedrooms  to  which  Cassie  had  restricted 
their  living.  He  had  no  books,  and  books  would 
have  been  after  all  poor  companions  on  such  a  night 
as  this. 

David  was  not  an  ill-looking  boy;  he  had  indeed 
the  promise  of  growing  handsome  as  he  grew  older ; 
he  was  many  times  richer  than  any  other  young 
man  of  Millerstown.  There  were  probably  only  two 
girls  in  the  village  to  whom  these  pleasant  charac 
teristics  would  make  no  appeal.  The  first  of  these 
was  Katy  Gaumer.  The  second  was  smooth,  pretty, 


142  KATY  GAUMER 

blue-eyed  Essie  Hill,  the  daughter  of  the  preacher 
of  the  Improved  New  Mennonites,  who  sat  now 
demurely  on  her  father's  doorstep.  Beside  her  David 
suddenly  sat  himself  down. 


CHAPTER  IX 

CHANGE 

IT  sometimes  happens  that  death  gathers  from  a 
single  spot  a  large  harvest  in  a  year.  We  seem  to 
have  been  forgotten ;  we  learn  to  draw  once  more  the 
long,  secure  breath  of  youth ;  we  almost  believe  that 
sorrow  will  no  more  visit  us. 

,  For  many  months  Millerstown  had  had  scarcely  a 
funeral.  In  security  Millerstown  went  about  its 
daily  tasks.  Then,  in  May,  John  Hartman  was 
found  dead  along  the  mountain  road. 

In  June  there  came  a  letter  from  the  Western 
home  of  Great-Uncle  Gaumer,  telling  of  a  serious 
illness  and  the  rapid  approach  of  the  end  of  his  life. 
A  few  days  later,  when  a  telegram  announced  his 
death,  Grandfather  Gaumer  himself  dropped  to  the 
floor  in  the  office  of  his  brother  the  squire  and 
breathed  no  more.  Dr.  Benner,  who  was  passing, 
heard  from  the  street  the  crash  of  his  fall  and  the 
squire's  loud  outcry,  and  Bevy  rushed  in  from  the 
kitchen.  The  doctor  and  the  squire  knelt  beside 
him,  and  still  kneeling  there,  regarded  each  other 
with  amazement. 

Bevy  Schnepp  lifted  her  hands  above  her  head 
and  cried  out,  "Lieber  Himmel!"  and  stood  as  if 
rooted  to  the  floor.  "Who  will  tell  her?" 


144  KATY  GAUMER 

The  squire  rose  from  his  knees,  pale  and  unsteady, 
and  stood  looking  at  his  brother  as  though  the  sight 
were  incredible. 

£"Is  there  no  life?"  he  asked  the  doctor  in  a 
whisper. 

The  doctor  shook  his'head.  "He  was  gone  before 
he  fell." 

Bevy  began  to  cry.   "Ach,  who  will  tell  her?" 

"I. will  tell  her,"  answered  the  squire.  Then  he 
went  round  the  house  and  across  to  the  other  side  of 
the  homestead  where  Grandmother  Gaumer  and 
Katy  sat  at  their  sewing. 

There  was  a  quantity  of  white  material  on  Grand 
mother  Gaumer's  lap,  and  her  fingers  moved  the 
needle  swiftly  in  and  out.  Katy  was  talking  as  she 
hemmed  a  scarlet  ruffle  —  Katy  was  always  talking. 
She  had  been  shocked  by  the  news  of  the  governor's 
illness,  but  she  believed  that  he  would  get  well. 
Besides,  she  had  seen  the  governor  only  once  in  her 
life,  and  her  grandfather  had  assured  her  that  her 
plans  for  her  education  need  not  be  changed.  She 
could  not  be  long  unhappy  over  anything  when  all 
these  beautiful  new  clothes  were  being  made  for  her 
and  when  she  was  soon  to  leave  dull  Millers  town, 
and  when  Alvin  Koehler  had  twice  sat  on  the  door 
step  with  her.  She  had  journeyed  to  the  county 
seat  with  her  grandmother  and  there  had  made 
wonderful  purchases. 

"And  the  ladies  in  the  stores  are  so  fine,  and  so 
polite,  and  they  show  you  everything,"  said  Katy. 


KATY  GAUMER  145 

"When  Louisa  Kuhns  went  to  Allentown  she  said, 
'the  people  are  me  so  unpolite,  they  go  always 
bumping  and  bumping  and  they  don't  even  say  uhl ' 
That  is  not  true.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  anywhere 
in  the  world  a  politer  place  than  Allentown. 

"Louisa — "  No  gap  between  subjects  halted 
Katy's  speech;  she  leaped  it  with  a  bound.  "Louisa 
is  very  dumb.  Now  I  do  not  believe  myself  that  a 
person  can  learn  everything.  But  you  can  train 
your  mind  so  that  you  can  understand  everything 
if  it  is  explained  to  you.  You  must  keep  your  mind 
all  the  time  busy  and  you  must  be  very  humble. 
Louisa  said  that  poetry  was  dumb.  Louisa  cannot 
even  understand,  'Where,  oh,  where  are  the  visions 
of  morning? '  Louisa  thinks  everything  must  be  real. 
I  said  to  her  I  would  be  ashamed  to  talk  that  way. 
The  realer  poetry  is  the  harder  it  is.  But  Louisa! 
Ach,  my\  Gran'mom!  The  teacher  said  Louisa 
should  write  '  pendulum '  in  a  sentence,  and  Louisa 
wrote  '  Pendulum  Franklin  is  dead ' ! " 

"  Do  you  like  poetry,  Katy?"  asked  Grandmother 
Gaumer. 

"Some,"  answered  Katy.  "It  is  not  the  fault  of 
the  poetry  that  I  cannot  understand  it  all.  I  want  to 
understand  everything.  I  do  not  mean,  gran'mon, 
that  you  cannot  be  good  unless  you  understand 
everything.  But  there  is  more  in  this  world  than 
being  good.  Sarah  Ann  is  good,  but  Sarah  Ann  has 
a  pretty  slow  time  in  this  world." 

"Sarah  Ann  does  many  kind  things." 


146  KATY  GAUMER 

"But  the  squire  and  gran'pop  do  more  because 
they  are  smarter,"  said  Katy  triumphantly.  "When 
the  people  want  advice,  do  they  go  to  Sarah  Ann? 
They  come  to  the  squire  or  to  gran'pop!" 

Grandmother  Gaumer  smiled.  Sometimes  Katy 
talked  in  borrowed  phrase  about  a  "larger  vision" 
or  "preparation  for  a  larger  life." 

"  Millerstown ! "  said  Katy  with  a  long  sigh  and  a 
shake  of  the  head.  "I  could  not  stay  forever  in 
Millerstown,  gran'mom.  Think  of  the  Sunday  School 
picnics  with  the  red  mint  candy  on  the  cakes  and 
how  Susannah  and  Sarah  Knerr  try  to  have  the 
highest  layer  cakes,  and  each  wants  the  preacher  to 
eat.  Think  of  the  Copenhagen,  gran'mom,  and  the 
Bingo  and  the  Jumbo,  gran'mom!"  In  derision 
Katy  began  to  sing,  "A  certain  farmer." 

Grandmother  Gaumer  leaned  forward  in  her  chair. 
A  sense  of  uneasiness  overwhelmed  her,  though 
Katy  had  heard  nothing.  "Listen,  Katy!" 

There  was  nothing  to  be  heard;  Grandfather 
Gaumer  had  fallen ;  beside  him  knelt  his  brother  and 
the  doctor;  aghast  Bevy  flung  her  arms  above  her 
head ;  all  were  as  yet  silent. 

"It  is  nothing,  gran'mom,"  said  Katy.  Katy 
began  her  chattering  again ;  she  laughed  now  because 
Bevy  had  said  that  it  brought  bad  luck  to  use  black 
pins  on  white  material  or  to  sew  when  the  clock 
struck  twelve.  Grandmother  Gaumer  went  on  with 
her  stitching.  A  boy  ran  down  the  street ;  the  sound 
disturbed  her. 


KATY  GAUMER  147 

"I  will  go  and  see,"  offered  Katy,  putting  the 
scarlet  ruffles  off  her  lap.  She  did  not  move  as 
swiftly  as  she  would  have  moved  six  months  ago. 
Then  the  sound  of  rapid  steps  would  have  drawn 
her  promptly  in  their  wake.  But  the  affairs  of 
Millerstown  had  ceased  to  be  of  great  importance. 
She  did  not  even  hate  Millerstown  now.  "  I  guess  it 
is  just  a  boy  running,  gran'mom.  I  guess  — " 

The  squire  had  thought  that  he  would  go  bravely 
to  Grandmother  Gaumer  and  put  his  arm  round  her 
and  break  to  her  gently  the  terrible  news.  He  did 
not  realize  that  his  lips  and  hands  grew  each  moment 
more  tremulous  and  his  cheeks  more  ashen.  He  saw 
his  sister-in-law  sitting  beside  her  lovely  garden  in 
security  and  peace,  and  his  heart  failed  him. 

Katy  had  risen  to  her  feet,  and  she  stood  still  and 
regarded  him  with  astonishment.  She  had  forgotten 
for  the  instant  that  he  was  awaiting  news  of  Gov 
ernor  Gaumer 's  death.  Now  she  remembered  it  and 
was  disturbed  to  the  bottom  of  her  soul  by  the 
squire's  evident  grief.  Grief  was  new  to  Katy. 

Grandmother  Gaumer  laid  down  her  needle  and 
thread.  "  Ach,  the  governor  is  gone,  then ! "  said  she. 
"Did  a  letter  come?'' 

"Yes,"  answered  the  squire.  "A  message  came. 
He  died  in  the  night." 

Tears  came  into  Grandmother  Gaumer 's  eyes. 
"Where  is  William?  I  thought  he  was  by  you." 

The  squire  sat  down  in  the  chair  beside  Grand 
mother  Gaumer  and  took  her  hand.  The  heap  of 


148  KATY  GAUMER 

white  stuff  slid  off  her  lap  to  the  floor  of  the  porch 
and  lay  there  unheeded  until  hours  later  when  Bevy 
gathered  it  up,  weeping,  and  laid  it  away. 

"I  have  bad  news  for  you,"  said  the  squire. 

"Well,"  said  Grandmother  Gaumer,  bravely. 

"When  William  heard  that  Daniel  was  gone,  he 
dropped  to  the  floor  like  one  shot." 

"William!"  cried  Grandmother  Gaumer. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  squire.  "He  suffered  no 
pain.  The  doctor  said  he  knew  nothing  of  it." 

"Knew  nothing  of  it!"  repeated  Grandmother 
Gaumer.  "You  mean  that  he  fell  dead ? " 

"Yes." 

"Where  is  he?"  asked  Grandmother  Gaumer  in 
a  quieter  tone. 

"In  my  office.  They  will  bring  him  home." 

"Then  we  will  make  a  place  ready  for  him.  Come, 
Katy." 

Katy  followed  into  the  kitchen.  Grandmother 
Gaumer  stood  looking  about  her  and  frowning,  as 
though  she  were  finding  it  difficult  to  decide  what 
should  be  done.  Katy  thought  of  John  Hartman 
and  of  his  strange  attitude  and  his  staring  eyes. 
Would  Grandfather  Gaumer  look  like  that?  Katy 
was  about  to  throw  herself  into  the  arms  which  had 
thus  far  opened  to  all  her  griefs. 

"Ach,  gran 'mom!"  she  began,  weeping. 

Then,  slowly,  Grandmother  Gaumer  turned  her 
head  and  looked  at  Katy.  Her  eyes  were  intolerable 
to  Katy. 


KATY  GAUMER  149 

"What  shall  I  do?  "she  asked.  "I  am  old.  lean- 
not  think.  We  have  lived  together  fifty  years.  I 
cannot  remember  where  my  things  are.  There  are 
things  put  away  in  the  bureaus  all  ready  for  such  a 
time.  What  shall  I  do,  Katy?" 

With  a  gasp  Katy  drove  back  the  tears  from  her 
smarting  eyelids.  Katy  was  confused,  bewildered; 
she  still  lacked  the  education  with  which  she  ex 
pected  to  meet  the  problems  of  life.  But  Katy, 
whose  forte  was  managing,  did  not  fail  here.  ; 

"You  will  sit  here  in  this  chair,  gran'mom.  I 
will  get  a  white  pillow  to  put  on  the  settee  and  they 
can  lay  gran'pop  there.  Then  we  will  find  the  things 
for  them."  She  guided  her  grandmother  to  the  arm 
chair  and  helped  her  to  sit  down.  Even  the  touch  of 
her  body  seemed  different.  "It  will  take  only  a 
minute  for  me  to  go  upstairs.  I  will  be  back  right 
away.  You  know  how  quickly  I  can  run." 

When  Katy  returned,  the  feet  of  the  bearers  were 
at  the  door.  With  them  Millers  town  crowded  in, 
weeping.  Grandmother  Gaumer  had  wept  with 
them,  Grandfather  Gaumer  had  helped  them  in 
their  troubles.  Grandfather  was  laid  in  state  in  the 
best  room  and  presently  the  house  settled  into  quiet. 
In  this  house  five  generations  had  met  grief  with 
dignity  and  death  with  hope;  thus  they  should  be 
met  once  more. 

Preparations  were  begun  at  once  for  the  laying 
away  of  the  body  in  the  little  graveyard  of  the 
church  which  the  soul  had  loved.  At  the  feet  of  his 


150  KATY  GAUMER 

mother,  beside  his  little  sister,  a  grave  was  dug  for 
William  Gaumer  and  was  lined  with  boughs  of  arbor 
vitae  and  sprays  of  life  everlasting. 

In  the  Gaumer  house  there  was  little  sweeping 
and  cleaning;  the  beds  were  not  made  up  for  show, 
but  were  prepared  for  the  gathering  relatives. 
Grandfather  Gaumer  did  not  lie  alone  in  the  best 
room  as  John  Hartman  had  lain;  his  children  and 
his  grandchildren  went  in  and  sat  beside  him  and 
talked  of  him. 

When  the  funeral  was  over  and  the  house  was  in 
order  and  the  relatives  had  gone,  Katy  sat  on  her 
little  stool  at  her  grandmother's  knee  and  cried  her 
fill.  Grandmother  Gaumer  had  not  given  way  to 
grief.  She  had  moved  about  among  her  kin,  she  had 
given  directions,  she  had  wept  only  a  little. 

To  Katy  there  was  not  now  a  ray  of  brightness  in 
the  world. 

" Nothing  is  certain,"  she  mourned.  "My  gran'- 
pop  brought  me  up.  I  was  always  by  him,  he  was  my 
father.  I  cannot  get  along  without  him." 

"You  will  feel  certain  again  of  this  world,  Katy/' 
her  grandmother  assured  her.  "  You  must  not  mourn 
for  grandfather.  He  had  a  long,  long  life.  You 
would  not  have  him  back  where  he  would  get  lame 
and  helpless  after  while.  That  is  worse,  Katy." 

"  But  there  are  many  things  I  would  like  to  say  to 
him.  I  never  told  him  enough  how  thankful  I  was 
to  him." 

"He  knew  you  were  thankful.  Now  you  are  to 


KATY  GAUMER  151 

go  to  school.  Everything  is  to  be  just  as  it  was 
planned." 

Katy  burst  into  tears  once  more. 

"Ach,  I  do  not  think  of  school!" 

Nevertheless,  her  heart  beat  a  little  faster.  There 
was,  after  all,  something  right  in  the  world.  More 
over,  she  still  had  another  person  to  think  of.  That 
day  Alvin  Koehler's  dark  eyes  had  looked  down 
upon  her  as  she  sat  by  her  grandmother  in  church. 
She  had  promised  to  help  Alvin;  his  eyes  reminded 
her  consciously  or  unconsciously  of  her  promise. 

"Your  Uncle  Edwin  and  I  talked  this  over,1 ' 
went  on  Grandmother  Gaumer.  "You  have  two 
hundred  dollars  from  the  governor  in  the  bank  in 
your  name  and  the  squire  and  Uncle  Edwin  and  I 
will  all  help.  You  are  to  go  right  on,  Katy." 

"  I  was  n't  thinking  about  school,"  persisted  Katy. 
"I  was  thinking  about  my  grandfather." 

Grandmother  Gaumer  laid  a  trembling  hand  on 
Katy's  head. 

"He  was  always  good  and  kind,  Katy,  you  must 
never  forget  that.  He  was  first  of  all  good ;  that  is  the 
best  thing.  He  did  what  he  could  for  everybody, 
and  everybody  loved  him.  You  see  what  Millers- 
town  thought  of  him.  See  that  Millers  town  thinks 
that  well  of  you !  You  must  never  forget  him,  never. 
He  loved  you  —  he  loved  you  — " 

Grandmother  Gaumer  repeated  what  she  had 
said  in  a  strange  way,  then  she  ceased  to  speak,  and 
Katy,  startled,  lifted  her  head.  Then  she  got  to  her 


152 *  KATY  GAUMER 

feet.  She  had  become  familiar  in  these  last  weeks 
with  the  gray  pallor  of  a  mortal  seizure. 

"Gran'mom!"  shrieked  Katy.   "Gran'mom!" 

Only  the  gaze  of  a  pair  of  bright,  troubled  eyes 
answered  her.  Grandmother's  face  was  twisted,  her 
hands  fell  heavily  into  her  lap. 

J  Katy  threw  her  arms  round  her  and  laid  her  cheek 
against  the  white  hair. 

"  I  will  be  back,  dear,  dear  gran'mom,"  said  Katy. 
"You  know  how  I  can  run!" 

\_  An  instant  later,  Katy  had  flung  open  the  door 
of  the  squire's  office  where  sat  the  squire  and  Dr. 
Benner.  Her  grandmother  had  insisted  upon  her 
putting  on  her  red  dress  after  the  funeral.  She 
paused  now  on  the  sill  as  she  had  paused  in  her  bird- 
like  attitude  to  call  to  Caleb  Stemmel  in  the  store 
at  Christmas  time.  But  this  was  a  different  Katy. 

"Oh,  come!'*  she  cried.  "Oh,  come,  come  quickly!" 


CHAPTER  X 

KATY  MAKES  A  PROMISE 

GRANDMOTHER  GAUMER  was  not  dead.  When  the 
squire  and  the  doctor  reached  her  side,  she  sat  just 
as  Katy  left  her,  erect,  motionless,  bright-eyed. 
They  put  her  to  bed  and  there  she  lay  with  the  same 
bright,  helpless  gaze. 

"Can  you  understand  me?"  asked  the  doctor 
gently. 

The  expression  in  the  brown  eyes  changed.  The 
flash  of  perception  was  almost  invisible,  but  it  was 
there;  to  the  eyes  of  Katy  who  stood  by  the  bed, 
breathless,  terrified,  it  was  as  welcome  as  the  cry  of 
a  first-born  child  to  its  mother. 

"She  is  conscious,"  the  doctor  assured  them. 

Uncle  Edwin  and  Aunt  Sally,  whom  Katy  con 
sidered  so  dull,  returned  presently  in  tearful  haste 
from  their  farm  at  the  edge  of  the  town.  They  sat 
with  grandmother  while  the  doctor  gave  directions 
for  the  night  to  Katy  in  the  kitchen. 

Katy  looked  at  the  doctor  wildly.  The  lamp  cast 
dark  shadows  into  the  corners  of  the  room;  it  sur 
rounded  Katy  with  a  glare  of  light.  Her  hands 
clasped  and  unclasped,  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

"Will  my  grandmother  die?"  asked  Katy  in  a 
hollow  voice. 


154  KATY  GAUMER 

Young  Dr.  Benner  looked  down  upon  her.  He 
had  not  given  so  much  thought  of  late  to  the  devel 
opment  of  his  prot6g6.  He  had  met  in  the  county 
seat  an  older  lady  who  had  taken  his  fancy,  who 
needed  no  improvement,  and  whose  mind  was 
already  sufficiently  developed  to  suit  his  ideas.  He 
looked  now  at  Katy  through  narrowed  eyelids.  He 
suddenly  remembered  the  great  plans  he  had  had 
for  her  and  the  greater  plans  she  had  had  for  herself. 
He  began  to  wonder  what  Katy's  life  would  be  like, 
he  who  had  just  a  little  while  ago  been  planning  it 
so  carefully!  He  heard  in  that  instant's  pause  a 
clear  whistle  from  the  direction  of  the  garden,  and 
he  decided  without  knowing  the  identity  of  the 
whistler  that  there  would  sooner  or  later  be  that 
sort  of  complication  in  Katy's  life  which  would  end 
her  education,  even  if  her  grandmother's  need  of 
her  did  not.  He  was  so  busy  with  his  speculations 
that  he  did  not  answer  Katy's  question  until  she 
was  faint  with  apprehension. 

Katy  was  a  sensitive  creature;  she  was  suddenly 
aware  of  the  changed,  absent  way  in  which  he 
regarded  her.  She  remembered  that  it  was  a  long 
time  since  the  doctor  had  invited  her  to  ride  with 
him,  a  long  time  since  he  had  said  anything  to  her 
about  singing. 

"My  gran'mom  is  all  I  have  in  this  world,"  she 
reminded  him  with  piteous  dignity. 

"No,  Katy."  The  doctor  came  back  to  reality 
with  a  start.  "She  will  not  die." 


KATY  GAUMER  155 

His  expression  terrified  Katy. 

"Then,  when  will  she  be  well  again?" 

"I  cannot  say." 

The  whistle  sounded  again  from  beyond  the  gar 
den  wall.  This  time  it  penetrated  to  the  conscious 
ness  of  Katy,  who,  hearing  it,  blushed.  No  one  but 
Alvin  Koehler  could  produce  so  sweet  and  clear  a 
note.  For  the  first  time  he  had  called  her.  The 
night  was  warm  and  bright,  and  the  breeze  carried 
the  odor  of  honeysuckle  and  jasmine  into  the  kitchen. 
The  beauty  of  the  night  seemed  mocking.  Katy'a 
heart  cried  out  angrily  against  the  trouble  which 
had  come  upon  her,  against  the  greater  grief  which 
now  threatened. 

"You  mean  that  she  will  be  sick  a  long,  long  time?" 

"Possibly." 

Katy  clasped  and  unclasped  her  hands. 

"You  do  not  mean  that  perhaps  she  will  never  be 
well?" 

"I  do  not  believe  she  can  ever  be  well,  Katy." 
The  doctor  now  laid  his  hand  on  Katy's  shoulder.  J 

Katy  moved  away,  her  hand  on  her  side,  as  if  to 
sustain  the  weight  of  a  heavy  heart. 

"What  am  I  to  do  for  her?" 

The  doctor  gave  directions  about  the  medicines, 
and  then  went  across  the  yard  to  sit  with  the  squire 
in  his  office.  When  he  had  gone,  Katy  stood  for  a 
moment  perfectly  still  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 
The  whistle  did  not  come  again ;  Alvin,  approaching 
the  house  without  knowing  anything  of  Grand- 


156  KATY  GAUMER 

mother  Gaumer 's  illness,  saw  suddenly  that  the 
house  was  more  brightly  lighted  than  usual  and  stole 
away. 

For  an  instant  Katy  stood  still,  then  she  crossed 
the  room  and  opened  the  door  which  led  into  the 
dim  front  of  the  house,  and  went  into  the  parlor. 
There  she  sat  down  on  the  high,  slippery  haircloth 
sofa.  Presently  she  turned  her  head  and  laid  her 
cheek  against  the  smooth,  cool  surface  of  the  arm. 
Overhead  she  could  hear  the  sound  of  Uncle  Edwin's 
soft,  heavy  tread,  the  sound  of  his  deep  voice  as 
he  spoke  to  Grandmother  Gaumer  or  to  Aunt  Sally. 
Uncle  Edwin  was  a  good  man,  Katy  said  to  herself 
absently,  her  mind  dwelling  upon  a  theme  in  which 
it  took  at  that  moment  no  interest;  Uncle  Edwin 
was  a  good  man,  but  he  was  not  a  very  smart  man. 
He  had  never  gone  to  school  —  to  school  —  Katy 
found  herself  repeating  that  magic  word.  It  brought 
fully  into  the  light  of  consciousness  the  dread 
question  which  had  been  lingering  just  outside.  If 
Grandmother  Gaumer  were  to  be  a  long  time  sick, 
who  would  take  care  of  her?  Uncle  Edwin  and  Aunt 
Sally  were  kind,  but  they  had  their  farm  on  the 
outskirts  of  Millerstown;  they  could  not  leave  it. 

"But  I  must  have  my  education,"  whispered 
Katy  to  the  smooth  surface  of  the  old  sofa.  "This 
is  my  time  in  life  for  education.  Afterwards  the 
mind  gets  dull,  and  you  cannot  learn.  It  is  right 
that  I  should  have  a  chance  to  learn." 

Then  Katy  sat  up;  from  the  room  above  Uncle 


KATY  GAUMER  157 

Edwin  called  her.  "  Ach,  Katy,  come  once  here  !" 

"I  am  coming,"  answered  Katy  as  she  flew. 

In  the  sick-room  her  uncle  and  aunt  welcomed  her 
with  relief.  To  them  Katy  was  always  a  sort  of 
wonder  child.  They  had  wanted  to  adopt  her  when 
she  was  a  little  girl;  they  had  always  loved  her  as 
they  loved  their  own  little  Adam. 

"We  cannot  make  out  what  she  wants,  Katy. 
Perhaps  it  is  you  she  wants." 

Katy  looked  about  the  room,  at  the  stout,  dis 
turbed  uncle  and  aunt,  then  at  the  great  bedstead, 
with  its  high  feather  bed,  its  plump  pillows.  Grand 
mother  Gaumer's  hair  had  been  covered  by  a  close- 
fitting  cap ;  the  sheet  was  drawn  up  under  her  chin ; 
she  seemed  to  have  shrunk  to  a  pair  of  eyes.  But 
they  were  eyes  into  which  the  life  of  the  body  was 
concentrated.  Katy  almost  covered  her  own  as  she 
met  them,  her  throat  contracted,  all  emotions  com 
bined  into  one  overwhelming  sensation. 

"I  will  stay  here  now,"  announced  Katy.  "Aunt 
Sally,  you  can  go  home,  and  Uncle  Edwin,  if  he  is 
to  stay  all  night  here,  can  go  to  bed,  and  if  I  need 
anything  I  will  call  him." 

Thus  Katy,  the  dictator.  When  they  had  obeyed, 
Katy  crossed  the  room  to  her  grandmother's  side. 
To  such  an  interview  as  this  there  could  be  no  wit 
nesses. 

"No  one  else  is  going  to  take  care  of  you,  gran'- 
mom,"  promised  Katy.  "No  one  can  travel  so  fast 
and  talk  so  much."  She  leaned  over  and  laid  her 


158  KATY  GAUMER 

hand  on  her  grandmother's  cheek.  "I  am  going  to 
stay  with,  you  to-night  and  to-morrow  night  and 
always.  I  am  never  going  to  leave  you.  I  care  for 
schooling,  but  I  care  more  for  you.  You  raised  me 
from  little  when  I  had  no  father  and  mother  to  take 
care  of  me.  I  will  remember  what  you  said  about 
gran'pop,  and  I  will  try  to  be  like  him.  Do  you 
understand  me?"  besought  Katy  in  a  sudden  agony 
of  fright. 

The  brown  eyes  answered,  or  Katy  thought  they 
answered. 

"Well,  then,"  said  Katy.  "Now  I  will  read  you  a 
chapter  and  then  you  will  go  to  sleep." 


CHAPTER  XI 

KATY  FINDS  A  NEW  AIM  IN  LIFE 

IT  was  on  Tuesday  evening  that  Grandmother 
Gaumer  was  smitten  and  Alvin  Koehler  whistled  in 
the  garden.  On  Wednesday  Millerstown  flocked  to 
the  Gaumer  house  with  inquiries  and  gifts.  They  all 
saw  Grandmother  Gaumer,  according  to  Millers- 
town's  custom  in  sickness,  then  they  went  down  to 
the  kitchen  to  hear  from  Bevy  an  account  of  this 
amazing  seizure.  Sarah  Ann  Mohr,  who  was  one  of 
grandmother's  oldest  friends,  brought  fresh  pie  and 
many  tears.  Susannah  Kuhns  promised  fresh  bread 
in  the  afternoon,  and  Sarah  Knerr  carried  off  the 
washing. 

Then  Sarah  Ann,  accustomed  to  hear  with  admira 
tion  and  wonder  the  problems  which  Katy  put  to  a 
puzzled  Mr.  Carpenter,  and  expecting,  with  the  rest 
of  the  community,  that  she  would  bring  extraordi 
nary  honor  to  Millerstown,  asked  Bevy  Schnepp  a 
question. 

"My  mom  was  taken  that  a  way,"  she  explained, 
tearfully.  "For  seven  years  she  laid  and  didn't 
speak  and  toward  the  end  she  had  n't  her  mind  any 
more.  Who  will  take  care  of  gran'mom?  Will  Edwin 
and  Sally  move  home  or  will  they  get  some  one  from 
outside?'1 


160  KATY  GAUMER 

Bevy  stood  beside  the  sink,  her  arms  akimbo. 

"Gran'mom  isn't  sure  to  lie  seven  years,"  said 
she.  Bevy  had  in  her  possession  the  seventh  book 
of  Moses,  which  contained  many  powerful  prescrip 
tions  ;  she  meant  to  see  what  pow- wowing  could  do 
before  she  despaired  of  Grandmother  Gaumer.  "  But 
if  she  does  lay,  Edwin  won't  come  home  and  they 
won't  get  anybody  from  outside.  It  was  never 
yet  a  Gaumer  what  had  to  be  taken  care  of  by 
one  from  outside.  Katy  will  take  care  of  her  gran'- 


mom." 


"  Katy  will  take  care  of  her  gran 'mom ! "  repeated 
Sarah  Ann.  "But  she  won't  be  well  till  [by]  Sep 
tember!  How  will  Katy  then  be  educated?  Car 
penter  has  learned  her  everything  he  knows  in  this 
world.  I  could  easy  hear  that!" 

"Katy  does  not  think  of  education,"  answered 
Bevy.  "She  thinks  of  nothing  but  her  gran'mom. 
She  is  with  her  night  and  day." 

Solemnly  Sarah  Ann  and  Bevy  regarded  one 
another.  Then  solemnly  they  nodded. 

"That  is  what  I  said  to  Millerstown!"  Thus 
Sarah  Ann  in  triumph.  "There  are  those  in  Millers- 
town  who  will  have  it  that  Katy  will  let  her  gran' 
mom  stick.  There  are  those  in  Millerstown  who  say 
that  when  people  get  education,  they  get  crazy. 
Did  she  cry,  Bevy?" 

"Not  that  I  saw,"  answered  Bevy,  proudly.  "Or 
that  any  one  else  saw,  I  guess." 

"I  will  tell  Millerstown,"  Sarah  Ann  made  ready 


KATY  GAUMER  161 

to  depart.  "It  is  three  places  where  I  will  stop 
already  on  my  way  home." 

Ponderously,  satisfied  with  her  darling,  Sarah 
Ann  moved  through  the  door. 

Among  the  numerous  visitors  was  Essie  Hill,  who 
had  recently  experienced  the  sudden  and  violent 
change  of  heart  which  admitted  her  to  full  member 
ship  in  the  Improved  New  Mennonite  Church.  She 
wore  now  a  little  short  back  sailor  like  the  older 
women,  with  an  inscription  across  the  front  to  the 
effect  that  she  was  a  worker  in  the  vineyard.  Essie 
was  sincere;  she  was  good,  but  Katy  hated  her. 
When  she  told  Essie,  not  without  a  few  impertinent 
embroideries,  that  her  grandmother  was  asleep, 
Essie  departed  with  a  quiet  acceptance  of  the  rebuff 
which  no  Millerstonian  would  have  endured  with 
out  resentment.  Essie's  placid  soul,  however,  was 
not  easily  disturbed.  She  performed  her  duty  in 
offering  to  sit  by  Grandmother  Gaumer  and  to  read 
and  pray  with  her;  further  she  was  not  obligated. 

Katy  heard  no  more  Alvin's  clear  whistle  in  the 
garden.  She  said  to  herself,  in  a  moment  of  physical 
and  mental  depression,  that  he  might  easily  have 
made  a  way  to  see  her  by  coming  with  the  rest  of 
Millerstown  to  inquire  for  the  invalid;  then  she 
reminded  herself  that  the  Koehlers  went  nowhere, 
had  no  friends. 

"He  is  ashamed  of  his  pop,"  said  Katy  to  herself. 
"His  pop  is  a  black  shame  to  him." 

On  Thursday  she  left  her  grandmother  while  she 


162  KATY  GAUMER 

went  on  an  errand  to  the  store  and  her  eyes  searched 
every  inch  of  Main  Street  and  the  two  shorter 
streets  which  ran  into  it.  But  Alvin  was  nowhere  to 
be  seen.  She  answered  shortly  the  questions  about 
her  grandmother,  put  to  her  by  the  storekeeper  and 
by  all  other  persons  whom  she  met,  and  returned  to 
the  house  in  despair. 

"If  I  could  only  see  him,"  she  cried  to  herself. 
"If  I  could  only  talk  to  him  a  little!" 

On  Sunday  evening  Bevy  drove  her  out,  almost 
by  force,  to  the  front  porch.  Bevy's  preacher  was 
again  holding  services  in  the  next  village,  and  Bevy 
was  therefore  free  to  care  for  the  invalid.  She  had 
sought  all  the  week  an  opportunity  to  sit  by  Grand 
mother  Gaumer  and  to  repeat  the  pow-wow  rhymes 
which  she  firmly  believed  would  help  her.  Now, 
sitting  at  the  head  of  the  bed  in  the  dusk,  she  made 
passes  in  the  air  with  her  hands  and  motions  with 
her  lips.  When  she  was  certain  that  Grandmother 
Gaumer  slept,  she  slid  down  to  her  hands  and  knees 
and  crept  three  times  round  the  bed,  repeating  the 
while  some  mystic  rhyme.  In  reality,  Grandmother 
Gaumer  did  not  sleep,  but  lay  amusedly  conscious 
of  the  administrating  of  Bevy's  therapeutic  meas 
ures. 

Meanwhile  Katy  was  not  alone.  Had  Bevy  sus 
pected  the  company  into  which  she  was  sending  her 
beloved,  it  is  probable  that  one  spring  would  have 
carried  her  down  the  steps,  and  another  to  the 
porch. 


KATY  GAUMER  163 

Katy  sat  for  a  long  time  on  the  step  with  her  chin 
in  her  hands.  She  was  thin,  her  eyes  were  unnatur 
ally  large,  the  hard  work  of  nursing  had  worn  her 
out.  Her  gaze  searched  the  street,  and  she  shrank 
into  the  shadow  of  the  honeysuckle  vine  when 
couples  paraded  slowly  by,  arm  in  arm. 

"I  have  nobody,"  mourned  Katy,  weakly,  to 
herself.  "  Nobody  in  all  the  world  but  my  gran'mom, 
and  she  cannot  even  speak  to  me." 

After  a  long  time  Katy's  sharp  gaze  detected  a 
lurking  figure  across  the  street.  Her  heart  throbbed, 
she  leaned  forward  out  of  the  shadow  of  the  vine. 
Then  she  called  a  soft  "Alvin!" 

Alvin  came  promptly  across  and  Katy  made  room 
for  him  beside  her.  He  wore  his  new  red  tie,  but  his 
face  as  the  light  from  the  street  lamp  fell  upon  it 
was  far  from  happy. 

"Is  your  gran'mom  yet  sick?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes."  Katy  could  answer  only  in  a  monosyllable. 
Alvin  was  here,  he  sat  beside  her,  the  skirt  of  her 
dress  rested  against  him. 

"  I  was  here  once  in  the  garden,  and  I  whistled  for 
you.  I  did  not  know  your  gran'mom  was  sick." 

"I  heard  it,  but  I  couldn't  come."  The  two 
voices  had  all  the  tones  of  deep  tragedy.  "It  was 
when  my  gran'mom  was  first  taken  sick."  Katy  felt 
suddenly  tired  and  weak,  but  she  was  very  happy. 
She  noticed  now  the  odor  of  honeysuckle  and  the 
sweeter  jasmine  out  on  the  garden  wall.  It  was  a 
beautiful  world. 


164  KATY  GAUMER 

After  a  long  time  Alvin  spoke  again,  still  unhap 
pily. 

"  David  Hartman  is  going  away  to  school." 
.    Katy's  heart  gave  a  jealous  throb.  It  was  not  fair 
for  any  one  to  have  an  education  when  she  could  not. 

"He  is  going  right  away  to  the  real  college." 

"He  cannot!"  said  Katy.  "He  cannot  pass  the 
examination.  He  is  no  farther  than  I  and  I  could  n't 
get  in  the  real  college.  I  guess  we  have  catalogues 
that  tell  about  it!" 

"But  there  is  a  young  fellow  here  to  teach  him 
this  summer,  so  he  can  get  in.  His  mother  is  willing 
for  him  to  go.  Some  say  that  David  has  already  his 
own  money.  It  costs  a  lot  of  money  to  get  such  a 
young  man.  He  gets  more  than  Carpenter  got,  they 
say.  He  is  living  at  the  hotel  because  it  is  too  clean 
at  the  Hartmans'  for  strangers.  David  goes  to  him 
at  the  hotel.  They  say  he  will  learn  to  be 'a  lawyer 
so  that  he  can  take  care  of  his  money.  And  the 
tailor"  —  the  spaces  between  Alvin's  words  grew 
wider  and  wider,  his  voice  rose  and  fell  almost  as 
though  he  were  chanting —  "the  tailor  is  making 
new  clothes  for  him,  and  his  mom  bought  him  a 
trunk  in  Allentown!" 

"So!"  said  Katy,  scornfully,  the  blood  beating  in 
her  temples.  She  did  not  envy  David  his  clothes, 
but  she  envied  him  his  learning.  Katy  was  desper 
ately  tired;  a  noble  resolve,  though  persisted  in 
bravely,  does  not  keep  one  constantly  cheerful  and 
courageous. 


KATY  GAUMER  165 

"And  he  sits  on  the  porch  in  the  evenings  some 
times  with  Essie  Hill." 

"He  has  good  company!  It  is  queer  for  such  an 
educated  one  to  like  such  a  dumb  one!  Perhaps 
Essie  will  get  him  to  convert  himself.  She  was  here 
to  get  me  to  convert  myself.  She  says  it  is  while  I 
am  wicked  that  this  trouble  comes  upon  me.  She 
wanted  to  sit  by  my  gran 'mom  and  talk  about  my 
gran 'mom's  sins,  and  I  told  her  my  gran'mom 
had  n't  as  many  sins  in  her  whole  life  as  she  had 
already."  Katy  could  not  suppress  a  giggle.  "That 
settled  her.  I  would  n't  even  let  her  go  up.  I  wanted 
to  choke  her." 

Again  Katy  sat  silently.  Alvin  was  here,  she  was 
consuming  the  time  in  foolish  talk;  at  any  minute 
Bevy  might  descend  from  above  or  they  might  be 
interrupted  by  a  visitor.  Alvin  moved  uneasily. 
Perhaps  he,  too,  felt  this  talk  to  be  foolish.  The  light 
fell  full  upon  his  red  tie  and  the  beautiful  line  of  his 
young  throat.  A  more  mature  and  experienced  per 
son  than  Katy  Gaumer  would  have  been  certain 
that  there  must  be  good  in  a  creature  so  beautiful. 

"David  can  go  to  college,"  he  said  mournfully. 
"  But  I  cannot  go  anywhere,  not  even  to  the  normal 
school  where  I  could  learn  to  be  a  teacher.  I  thought 
I  would  surely  get  that  much  of  an  education,  but 
there  is  no  hope  for  me." 

Katy  turned  and  looked  at  him.  "Why  no  hope?  " 

"Why,  they  say  in  Millerstown  that  you  are  not 
going  to  school.  You  said  that  when  you  went  to 


166  KATY  GAUMER 

school  you  would  find  a  way  for  me  to  go.  But  if  you 
are  not  going,  then  there  is  no  one  to  help  me.  And 
pop"  —  Alvin's  lapses  into  the  vernacular  were  fre 
quent —  "pop  gets  worse  and  worse.  He  is  going 
very  fast  behind.  He  is  getting  so  he  has  queer  ideas. 
He  was  making  him  shoelaces  with  the  ravelings  of 
the  carpet.  And  he  thinks  there  is  now  a  woman 
with  horns  after  him.  He  talks  about  it  all  the  time. 
I  have  nothing  in  this  world.  When  he  was  so  bad 
I  came  to  tell  you.  It  was  then  I  whistled." 

"You  do  not  need  any  one  at  the  school  to  help 
you,"  said  Katy  in  a  clear  voice.  "  If  I  am  not  going, 
I  can  all  the  better  help  you  to  go;  don't  you  see 
that,  Alvin?  If  you  are  going  to  teach,  you  do  not 
have  to  pay  anything  except  for  board  and  room. 
I  have  two  hundred  dollars  in  the  bank,  and  I  can 
lend  you  some  to  begin  with  and  then  you  can  get 
something  to  do.  I  will  give  you  fifty  dollars"  — 
poor  Katy  planned  as  though  she  had  thousands. 
"There  is  a  little  hole  round  the  corner  of  the  house 
in  the  wall,  where  Bevy  used  to  put  the  cakes  for  me. 
There  I  will  put  the  money  for  you,  Alvin." 

Alvin's  lips  parted.  He  felt  not  so  much  gratitude 
as  amazement. 

"Are  n't  you  going  to  school  ever?11 

Katy  did  not  answer. 

"  Millerstown  will  be  crazy  when  it  finds  I  am 
going  away!"  cried  Alvin  with  delight. 

"They  must  never  know  how  you  go!"  said  Katy 
in  alarm.  "You  must  not  tell  them  how  you  go!" 


KATY  GAUMER  167 

"They  think  my  father  has  money."  Here  was  a 
solution.  "They  do  not  know  he  has  given  it  all  to 
detectives.  They  think  he  has  it  hidden  away. 
Millerstown  is  very  dumb." 

"You  must  get  a  catalogue  from  the  school, 
Alvin,  and  you  must  send  in  your  name.  That  is  the 
first." 

"I  will,"  promised  Alvin.  "  I  will  do  it  right  away. 
It  is  a  loan,  Katy,  and  I  will  pay  it  back.  It  will  not 
be  hard  to  earn  the  money  to  pay  it  back!" 

The  sound  of  a  descending  footstep  on  the  stair 
way  frightened  them,  as  though  they  had  been  plot 
ting  evil.  Alvin  went  swiftly  and  quietly  out  the 
brick  walk,  and  Katy  sat  still.  When  Bevy  came  to 
the  kitchen  door,  Katy  sat  on  the  lowest  step,  where 
Bevy  had  left  her,  her  elbows  on  her  knees,  her  chin 
in  her  hands. 

"  You  are  not  to  come  in  yet,"  said  Bevy.  "  I  just 
came  to  get  a  drink.  Your  gran'mom  is  sleeping." 

"Yes,  well,"  answered  Katy,  keeping  her  voice 
steady  by  great  effort.  She  did  not  wish  to  move. 
She  wished  to  think  and  think.  If  Alvin  had  omitted 
an  expression  of  thanks,  she  held  no  grudge  against 
him,  had  not,  indeed,  even  observed  the  omission. 
Here  was  an  outlet  from  prison;  here  was  something 
to  be,  to  do!  She  would  cheerfully  have  earned  by 
the  labor  of  her  hands  enough  to  send  Alvin  Koehler 
to  school.  After  such  a  foolish,  generous  pattern 
was  Katy  made  in  her  youth;  thus,  lightly,  with  a 
beating,  happy  heart,  did  she  put  herself  in  bondage. 


168  KATY  GAUMER 

"I  will  educate  Alvin,"  said  Katy.  "If  I  cannot 
do  one  thing,  I  can  do  another." 

Alvin  Koehler  climbed  the  hill.  His  heart  did  not 
throb  as  rapidly  as  Katy's,  but  Alvin,  too,  was  very 
happy.  Alvin  was  not  yet  possessed  by  an  over 
whelming  desire  for  an  education ;  but  he  saw  a  new 
suit  and  at  least  three  neckties.  Above  that  delect 
able  goal,  his  ambition  did  not  rise. 

When  he  reached  the  little  white  house  on  the 
hillside  and  lifted  the  latch  of  the  door,  he  could  not 
get  in.  After  he  had  pounded  and  called,  his  terror 
growing  each  moment  greater,  he  tried  the  window. 
From  there  his  father's  strong  hands  pushed  him  so 
suddenly  that  he  fell  on  his  back  into  the  soft  soil 
of  the  garden.  Poor  William  Koehler  had  come  to 
confuse  the  woman  with  horns  with  his  harmless  son. 

Terrified,  Alvin  retraced  his  steps  to  the  village 
and  sought  the  squire.  In  the  morning,  the  squire, 
with  gentle  persuasion,  carried  poor  William  to  the 
county  home.  There  William  was  kept  at  first  in  a 
cell,  with  a  barred  window;  then  he  was  allowed 
to  work  in  the  fields  under  guard.  Gradually,  the 
woman  with  horns  vanished;  his  work  with  his 
familiar  tools  and  with  the  plants  which  he  loved 
seemed  to  have  a  healing  effect.  He  grew  more  and 
more  quiet;  presently  he  ceased  to  pray  aloud  in  his 
frantic  way.  He  said  after  a  while  that  God  had  told 
him  to  be  quiet.  He  seemed  to  have  forgotten  his 
home,  his  child,  his  old  life,  even  his  enemy. 


CHAPTER  XII 

KATY  BORROWS  SO  THAT  SHE  MAY  LEND 

IN  June  Grandmother  Gaumer  was  smitten;  in 
September  Alvin  was  to  go  away;  the  months  be 
tween  were  not  unhappy  for  Katy.  Occasionally 
Alvin  came  and  sat  with  her  on  the  porch  in  the 
darkness.  It  was  tacitly  agreed  that  they  should  not 
be  seen  together.  Public  opinion  in  Millerstown  was 
less  favorable  than  ever  to  Alvin  since  his  father's 
removal  to  the  poorhouse  was  coincident  with  Alvin's 
elaborate  preparations  for  school.  Alvin  could  not 
wait  for  the  slow  operations  of  a  tailor;  he  went  at 
once  to  Allentown  and  purchased  a  suit ;  the  fifty 
dollars  which  he  found  at  the  time  appointed  in  the 
putlock  hole  remained  intact  no  longer  than  the  time 
consumed  in  making  the  journey.  Millerstown  was 
certain  that  Alvin  had  found  his  father's  hoarded 
wealth,  and  speculated  wildly  about  its  possible 
size. 

"Koehler  was  working  all  these  many  years,'* 
said  Susannah  Kuhns.  "He  had  all  the  time  his 
place  free  on  the  hill.  Alvin  will  have  enough  money 
for  education,  of  that  you  may  be  sure." 

"But  can  he  take  education?"  asked  the  puzzled 
Sarah  Ann.  "The  Koehlers  were  always  wonderful 
dumb.  There  was  once  a  Koehler  whose  name  was 


1 70  KATY  GAUMER 

Abraham  and  he  wrote  it  always  'Aprom,'  and  one 
made  a  cupboard  and  nailed  himself  in  and  they  had 
to  come  and  let  him  out.  They  are  a  dumb  Freund- 
schaft.  They  are  bricklayers  and  carpenters;  they 
are  not  educated  men.  Now,  with  Katy  it  is  differ 
ent.  She  has  a  squire  and  a  governor  in  her  Freund- 
schaft." 

"I  don't  believe  he  got  all  this  money  from  his 
pop,"  protested  Bevy.  "There  are  other  ways  of 
getting  money.  It  says  in  the  Bible,  'Like  father, 
like  son."' 

"He  parades  up  and  down  like  a  Fratzhans  [dude] 
in  his  new  clothes,"  said  Susannah. 

"Ach,  Susannah!"  reproved  gentle  Sarah  Ann, 
in  whose  judgment  criticism  had  now  gone  far 
enough. 

Such  speculations  and  accusations  Katy  had  more 
than  once  to  hear.  Then  Katy  clenched  her  hands. 
They  would  see  Alvin  come  back  to  Millerstown 
some  day  a  great  man.  She  hated  Susannah  and 
Bevy  and  all  Alvin 's  detractors.  Never  was  Katy 
doubtful  for  an  instant  of  her  undertaking ;  she  had 
succeeded  with  the  Christmas  entertainment;  she 
had  succeeded  in  compelling  Mr.  Carpenter  to  teach 
her;  she  was  succeeding  now  in  doing  all  the  work 
in  her  grandmother's  house;  she  would  succeed  in 
educating  Alvin. 

"Sarah  Ann  is  a  great,  fat  worm,"  said  Katy  with 
scorn.  "When  the  brains  were  given  out,  Sarah 
Ann  was  missed.  And  Bevy  is  a  little  grasshop- 


KATY  GAUMER  171 

per  and  she,  too,  is  dumb.  It  is  a  great  pity  for 
them." 

She  wished  that  she  might  see  Alvin  oftener,  but 
that  was  impossible.  He  was  near  at  hand;  she 
could  get  occasional  glimpses  of  him,  and  she  could 
sit  by  her  grandmother's  bed  and  think  of  him.  She 
had  put  her  precious  fifty  dollars  in  the  putlock  hole 
and  Alvin  had  removed  it.  It  must  be  confessed 
that  between  the  time  Katy  promised  and  the  time 
that  she  deposited  the  money,  Alvin  came  more 
than  once  after  night  to  feel  round  in  the  improvised 
bank.  The  gift  constituted  now  in  Katy's  mind 
an  unbreakable  bond  between  them.  Such  largess 
would  have  inspired  her  to  lay  down  her  life  for  the 
giver,  and  Alvin  was  endowed  in  her  mind  with  gifts 
and  graces  far  greater  and  nobler  than  her  own.  At 
the  garments  which  he  bought  she  looked  with 
tender  approval.  Certainly  he  could  not  go  to  the 
normal  school  without  suitable  clothes! 

Besides  Katy's  clearly  expressed  conviction  that  it 
was  unwise  for  Alvin  to  come  to  see  her,  there  was 
another  reason  why  Alvin  did  not  turn  his  steps 
oftener  to  Grandmother  Gaumer's  gate.  Alvin 's 
new  clothes  put  him  temporarily  into  a  condition 
bordering  upon  insanity.  He  must  show  himself  in 
his  fine  apparel.  He  would  have  liked  to  appear  in 
it  each  evening,  but  such  a  performance  was  unthink 
able.  Only  on  Saturday  and  Sunday  did  Millerstown 
wear  its  best. 

On  Saturday  and  Sunday,  therefore,  Alvin  lived. 


172  KATY  GAUMER 

He  attended  ice-cream  festivals  and  Sunday  School 
picnics;  he  went  diligently  to  church,  selecting  each 
Sunday  the  one  of  Millerstown's  churches  which 
was  likely  to  have  the  largest  attendance.  When 
the  Lutherans  had  a  Children's  Day  service,  Al- 
vin  went  early  to  get  a  good  seat.  Often  he  sat  in 
the  Amen  corner,  close  to  the  little  cupboard  with 
the  space  of  smooth,  gray  wall  beside  it.  Upon  the 
smooth,  gray  wall  his  profile  and  curly  head  cast  a 
beautiful  shadow.  When  there  was  a  revival  service 
at  the  church  of  the  Improved  New  Mennonites, 
Alvin  was  in  the  congregation.  There  he  was  con 
scious  of  the  demure  eyes  of  Essie  Hill.  Essie  was 
always  alone.  David  Hartman,  who  sat  with  her 
on  the  doorstep,  never  was  seen  inside  her  church. 
To  David  revivals,  such  as  enlivened  many  of  the 
meetings  of  the  Improved  New  Mennonites,  were 
intolerable;  they  made  him  feel  as  he  had  felt  at 
his  father's  funeral  with  the  gaze  of  all  Millerstown 
searching  his  soul.  Between  Essie  and  her  father 
there  had  occurred  a  short  conversation  about 
David  and  his  worldly  ways. 

"You  can  never  marry  outside  your  church, 
Essie,"  said  grave,  sober  Mr.  Hill. 

"No,  pop,"  agreed  Essie.  "Such  a  thing  I  would 
not  do." 

Alvin  Koehler  would  have  had  no  objection  to  a 
scrutiny  of  his  soul.  To  Alvin,  all  of  himself  was 
interesting. 

Alvin  did  not  think  often  of  his  father.   By  this 


KATY  GAUMER  173 

time  William  was  trusted  to  work  in  the  almshouse 
fields,  and  was  allowed  to  talk  from  morning  till 
night  of  his  wrongs. 

Early  in  September  Alvin  went  away.  He  came 
on  the  last  Saturday  evening  to  say  good-bye  to 
Katy  and  they  sat  together  on  the  dusky  porch. 
The  porch  was  darker  than  it  had  been  in  the  spring 
time,  since  the  hand  which  usually  pruned  the  vines 
was  no  longer  able  to  hold  the  shears.  There  were 
still  a  few  sprays  of  bloom  on  the  honeysuckle  and  the 
garden  was  in  its  greatest  glory.  There  bloomed  scar 
let  sage  and  crimson  cock's-comb  and  another  more 
brilliant,  leafy  plant,  red  from  root  to  tip.  Among 
the  stalks  of  the  spring  flowers  twined  now  nastur 
tiums  and  petunias,  and  there  was  sweet  alyssum 
and  sweet  William  and  great  masses  of  cosmos  and 
asters.  In  the  moonlight  Katy  could  see  a  plant 
move  gently ;  even  in  her  sadness  she  could  not  resist 
a  spasm  of  pleasure  as  a  rabbit  darted  out  from 
behind  it.  On  the  brick  wall  between  the  porch  and 
the  garden  stood  Grandmother  Gaumer's  thorny, 
twisted  night-blooming  cactus  with  great  swollen 
buds  ready  to  open  to-morrow  evening.  The  air  had 
changed;  it  was  no  longer  soft  and  warm  as  it  had 
been  the  night  when  Katy  first  planned  to  educate 
Alvin. 

Sitting  by  her  grandmother's  bed  Katy  had  fin 
ished  her  red  dress  with  the  ruffles.  It  had  been 
necessary  to  make  the  hem  an  inch  longer  than  they 
had  planned  in  the  spring.  Grandmother  Gaumer's 


174  KATY  GAUMER 

patient  eyes  had  seemed  to  smile  when  Katy  showed 
her.  Grandmother  Gaumer  was  shown  everything; 
to  her  bedside  Bevy  bore  proudly  Katy's  first  suc 
cessful  baking  of  bread;  thither  to-morrow,  Uncle 
Edwin  would  carry  the  great  cactus  in  its  heavy  tub. 

Katy  sat  for  a  long  time  on  the  step  before  Alvin 
came.  Her  body  softened  and  weakened  a  dozen 
times  as  she  thought  she  heard  his  step,  then  her 
muscles  stiffened  and  her  hands  clenched  as  the  step 
passed  by.  Presently  it  would  be  time  for  Bevy  to 
go  home  and  for  Katy  to  go  into  the  house,  or  pres 
ently  some  one  would  come,  and  then  her  chance  to 
see  Alvin  would  be  gone.  It  seemed  to  her  that 
Bevy  looked  at  her  with  suspicion  when  Alvin 's 
name  was  mentioned;  the  later  it  grew  the  more 
likely  Bevy  was  to  interrupt  their  interview. 

The  grip  of  Katy's  hands,  one  upon  the  other, 
grew  tighter,  her  cheeks  hotter,  the  beating  of  her 
heart  more  rapid.  He  must  come;  it  was  incredible 
that  he  could  stay  away.  Her  throat  tightened ;  she 
said  over  and  over  to  herself,  "Oh,  come!  come! 
come!" 

Presently  down  the  dusky  street  approached 
Alvin  with  his  swinging  walk.  Now  Katy  knew  at 
last  that  she  was  not  mistaken.  He  was  here;  he 
was  entering  the  gate  which  she  had  opened  so  that 
its  loud  creak  might  not  be  heard  by  Bevy;  he  was 
walking  softly  on  the  grass  as  Katy  had  advised 
him. 

Alvin  sat  down  a  little  closer  to  Katy  than  was 


KATY  GAUMER  175 

his  custom.  A  subtle  change  had  come  over  him. 
Though  the  Millerstown  boys  looked  at  him  with 
scorn,  the  Millerstown  girls,  smiling  upon  him,  had 
completed  the  work  which  Katy's  attentions  had 
begun.  Alvin  had  not  attended  Sunday  School  pic 
nics,  with  their  games  of  Copenhagen  and  their  long 
walks  home  in  the  twilight,  for  nothing.  Alvin  had 
less  and  less  desire  for  learning;  he  still  thought  of 
education  as  a  path  to  even  finer  clothes  than  he 
had  and  greater  admiration  and  entire  ease.  He  had 
come  now  from  service  at  the  Lutheran  church,  and 
from  his  favorite  corner  he  had  been  conscious  of  the 
notice  of  the  congregation.  He  had  asked  Katy  for 
twenty-five  dollars  more  than  she  had  given  him; 
this,  Katy  told  him,  lay  now  in  the  putlock  hole  in 
the  house  wall.  His  spirits  rose  still  more  gayly  as 
he  heard  of  it. 

"  I  will  pay  it  back  in  a  year  or  two,"  he  assured 
Katy  lightly.  "Then  I  will  tell  you  how  to  do  when 
you  go  to  school." 

"Yes,"  said  Katy.  She  would  have  liked  to  say, 
"  Oh,  Alvin,  keep  it,  keep  it  forever ! "  But  how  then 
should  she  attain  to  an  equality  with  Alvin?  She 
realized  now  fully  that  he  was  going  away.  The 
long,  long  winter  was  fast  approaching,  and  she 
would  be  here  alone  in  this  changed  house.  There 
would  be  no  more  entertainments;  there  would  be 
no  more  frantic  racing  with  Whiskey;  there  would 
be  no  more  glorifying,  sustaining  hope. 

Slowly  the  tears  rolled  down  Katy's  cheeks.  She 


176  KATY  GAUMER 

knew  that  the  minutes  were  passing  rapidly,  and 
that  she  and  Alvin  had  said  nothing.  But  still  she 
sat  with  her  hands  pressed  against  her  eyes. 

Almost  immediately,  alas!  there  was  an  alarming 
sound.  The  step  of  Bevy  was  heard  descending  the 
stairway.  Poor  Katy  could  cheerfully  have  slain 
her.  A  hundred  confused  thoughts  filled  her  mind, 
the  tears  came  faster  than  ever;  she  rose,  and  Alvin 
rose  with  her  and  they  looked  at  each  other,  and 
then  Alvin  was  gone.  In  his  excitement  he  closed 
the  gate  noisily  behind  him.  Katy  sank  down  again 
on  the  step  from  which  she  had  risen.  When  Bevy 
looked  out  from  the  doorway,  Katy  sat  motionless. 

"You  ought  to  come  in,  Katy,"  advised  Bevy. 
41  It  is  cold." 

"I  am  not  cold,"  said  Katy. 

"  It  is  damp  and  cold,"  insisted  Bevy.  "  I  thought 
I  heard  the  gate  slam." 

Katy  made  no  answer. 

"Did  it  slam?"  asked  Bevy. 

Katy  looked  round.  Her  eyes  were  bright;  her 
voice,  if  it  trembled,  did  not  tremble  with  grief.  ,"  If 
you  heard  it,  I  guess  it  slammed,"  said  she. 

"The  night  air  is  bad."  Bevy  was  losing  patience. 
"  Will  you  come  in?" 

"No,"  said  Katy. 

Bevy  snapped  the  screen  door  shut. 

"Je  gelehrter,  je  verkehrter"  (The  more  learned, 
the  more  perverse),  she  declared. 

When  Bevy  had  reached  the  upper  hall,  Katy 


KATY  GAUMER  177 

rose  from  her  place  on  the  lowest  step,  and  stretched 
out  her  arms  as  though  to  embrace  the  garden  and 
Millerstown  and  the  world.  Mist  was  rising  from 
the  little  stream  below  the  orchard;  it  veiled  the 
garden  in  a  lovely  garment;  it  seemed  to  intensify 
the  odor  of  the  honeysuckle  and  the  late  roses. 
Again  Katy  sank  down  on  the  step  and  hid  her  face 
in  her  arms. 

"He  kissed  me!"  said  Katy  shamelessly. 

Now  Katy's  winter  was  guarded  against  unhappi- 
ness. 

A  little  later  in  September  David  Hartman  went 
to  school  also,  not  to  the  normal  school  where  tui 
tion  cost  nothing,  but  to  college  as  befitted  the  heir 
of  a  rich  man.  His  tutor  had  prepared  him  thor 
oughly  for  his  examinations;  he  had  an  ample 
allowance ;  there  was  no  reason  why  the  gratification 
of  any  legitimate  desire  should  be  denied  him.  His 
mother  had  spared  no  pains  with  his  outfit;  she  had 
bought  and  sewed  and  laundered  and  packed  a 
wardrobe  such  as,  it  is  safe  to  say,  no  other  student 
in  the  college  possessed.  During  the  long  summer 
she  and  David  had  had  little  to  say  to  each  other. 
David  had  been  constantly  busy  with  his  books; 
he  had  had  little  time  even  to  think  of  his  father, 
whom  he  so  passionately  regretted.  Death  continued 
to  work  its  not  uncommon  miracle  for  John  Hart 
man  ;  it  dimmed  more  and  more  for  his  son  the  char 
acter  of  his  later  years,  and  exaggerated  greatly  the 
vaguely  remembered  tendernesses  of  David's  baby- 


178  KATY  GAUMER 

hood.  John  Hartman  had  to  an  increasing  degree 
in  his  death  what  he  had  not  had  in  life,  the  affection 
and  admiration  of  his  boy.  How  was  it  possible  for 
him  to  be  anything  else  but  silent  with  a  wife  so 
cold,  so  immovable,  so  strange?  David  was  certain 
that  he  had  solved  his  father's  problem.  Sometimes 
David  could  not  bear  to  look  at  his  mother. 

But  now  that  he  was  going  away,  David's  eyes 
were  somewhat  sharpened.  His  mother  looked  thin 
and  bent  and  tired;  she  seemed  to  have  grown  old 
while  she  sewed  for  him. 

"You  ought  to  get  you  a  girl,"  he  said  with  the 
colossal  stupidity  of  youth  and  of  the  masculine 
mind. 

Mrs.  Hartman  looked  at  him,  as  though  she  were 
suddenly  startled.  He  seemed  to  have  grown  tall 
overnight ;  his  new  clothes  had  made  a  man  of  him. 
Then  a  film  covered  her  eyes,  as  though  she  with 
drew  from  the  suggestions  of  lunacy  into  some 
inward  sanctuary  where  burned  the  lamp  of  wisdom. 

"A  girl!"  cried  Cassie,  as  though  the  suggestion 
were  monstrous.  "To  have  her  spoil  my  things! 
A  girl!" 

David's  trunk  was  packed  in  the  kitchen,  thither 
his  hat  and  satchel  were  brought  also.  When  his 
breakfast  was  over  he  went  down  the  street  to  the 
preacher's  for  a  letter  recommending  his  character. 
When  he  returned,  his  trunk  and  satchel  had  been 
sent  to  the  station ;  he  had  now  only  to  take  his  hat 
and  say  good-bye  to  his  mother  who  was  at  this 


KATY  GAUMER  179 

moment  in  the  deep  cellar.  For  her  David  waited 
awkwardly.  He  remembered  how  he  had  stood 
kicking  his  foot  against  the  door  sill  on  Christmas 
Day  —  how  many  years  and  years  ago  it  seemed ! 

Now,  as  then,  David  experienced  a  softening  of 
the  heart.  He  forgot  his  resentment  against  his 
mother's  coldness,  against  her  strange  passion  for 
material  things.  She  was  his  mother,  she  was  all  he 
had  in  the  world,  and  he  was  going  away  from  her 
and  from  his  home.  He  heard  her  ascending  the 
cellar  steps,  and  he  turned  and  went  up  to  his  room 
as  though  he  had  forgotten  something,  so  that  he 
might  hide  his  tears. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  little  hall  which  led  to  his 
room,  David  stood  still,  the  lump  hardening  in  his 
throat,  his  breath  drawn  heavily.  His  errand  to  the 
preacher's  had  not  taken  half  an  hour,  but  in  that 
half-hour  his  room  had  been  dismantled.  The  cheap 
little  bed  had  been  taken  apart  and  had  been  carried 
into  the  hall ;  the  carpet  had  been  dropped  out  of  the 
window  to  the  grass  below;  broom  and  scrubbing- 
brush  and  pail  waited  in  the  corner.  The  door  of  his 
mother's  room  opposite  his  own  was  closed;  a  dust 
cloth  was  stuffed  under  it  so  that  no  mote  could 
enter.  Now,  all  the  rooms  in  Cassie's  house  except 
the  kitchen  and  her  own  could  be  immaculate. 

For  a  long  moment  David  stood  still.  He  looked 
into  his  room,  he  looked  at  his  mother's  closed  door, 
he  looked  at  the  door  which  shut  off  the  deep  front 
of  the  great  house.  He  felt  the  same  mysterious 


i8o  KATY  GAUMER 

impression  which  Katy  Gaumer  felt  when  she  looked 
at  the  outside  of  the  Hartman  house,  as  though  it 
held  within  it  strange  secrets.  It  seemed  now  as 
though  it  thrust  him  forth  as  one  who  did  not 
belong,  as  though  its  walls  might  presently  contract 
until  there  should  be  no  space  for  him  to  stand.  It 
was  a  cruel  suggestion  to  a  boy  about  to  leave  his 
home!  David  breathed  deeply  as  though  to  shake 
off  the  oppression,  and  then  went  down  the  steps. 

Without  apparent  emotion  he  bade  Cassie  fare 
well,  then  strode  briskly  toward  the  station.  Essie 
Hill,  who  let  him  sit  beside  her  on  the  doorstep  and 
who  argued  prettily  with  him  about  his  soul,  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen;  his  companions,  Ollie  Kuhns 
and  Billy  Knerr  and  the  Fackenthals,  were  at  work 
or  at  school ;  Bevy  Schnepp,  whose  great  favorite  he 
was,  was  busy  with  her  washing  in  the  squire's  yard 
far  up  the  street.  In  the  door  of  the  store  stood  Katy 
Gaumer.  Her,  with  Alvin  Koehler,  he  hated.  David 
had  with  his  own  eyes  beheld  one  of  Alvin 's  hasty 
departures  from  Grandmother  Gaumer's  gate.  Per 
sons  found  their  levels  in  this  world  and  Katy  had 
found  hers. 

But  on  the  corner  David  hesitated.  How  tall  she 
had  grown !  How  large  her  eyes  were,  and  how  lack 
ing  in  their  old  sparkle!  Cheerfully  would  he  have 
returned  in  this  final  moment  of  madness  to  the 
dullness  of  the  Millerstown  school  to  be  near  her 
once  more,  cheerfully  would  he  have  continued  his 
abode  in  Millerstown  forever.  He  determined  to  go 


KATY  GAUMER  181 

to  speak  to  her,  to  say,  "Let  us  be  friends."  Essie 
Hill  was  pretty  and  sweet,  and  her  anxiety  about 
his  soul  was  flattering,  but  Essie  was  like  a  candle 
to  a  shining  star.  He  saw  the  flirt  of  Katy's  red 
dress  as  she  sailed  up  the  schoolroom  aisle ;  he  heard 
her  saucy  answers  to  the  teacher;  he  admired  her 
gayety,  her  great  ambition.  She  had  planned  by 
now  to  be  at  school,  learning  everything;  instead, 
she  wore  a  gingham  apron  and  stood  in  the  Millers- 
town  store  buying  a  broom! 

A  single  step  David  had  already  taken,  when 
Katy  turned  from  her  bargaining  and  their  eyes  met. 
Katy  knew  whither  David  was  bound;  already  his 
train  whistled  faintly  at  the  next  station.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  he  looked  at  her  with  pity.  He  was  to 
go,  and  she  was  to  stay  —  forever!  With  bitterness 
Katy  turned  her  back  upon  him. 

For  a  year  Grandmother  Gaumer  lay  high  upon 
her  pillows,  her  patient  eyes  looking  out  from  her 
paralyzed  body  upon  her  friends  and  her  quiet 
room.  Presently  she  was  able  to  lift  her  hands  and 
to  say  a  few  slow  and  painful  words.  Her  bed  had 
been  moved  to  the  parlor;  from  here  she  could  look 
up  and  down  the  street,  and  out  to  the  kitchen  upon 
Katy  at  her  work.  A  trolley  line  was  being  built  to 
connect  Millerstown  with  the  county  seat;  she  could 
see  the  workmen  approaching  across  the  flat  mead 
ows,  and  after  a  while  could  watch  with  a  thrill  a 
faint,  distant  gleam  of  light  broaden  into  the  glare 
of  a  great  headlight  as  the  car  whizzed  into  the  vil- 


182  KATY  GAUMER 

lage.  Her  face  grew  thinner  and  more  delicate;  her 
survival  came  presently  to  seem  almost  a  miracle. 
But  still  she  lay  patiently,  listening  to  the  storms 
and  rejoicing  in  the  sunshine.  To  her  Katy  read 
the  Bible,  hour  after  hour,  a  dull  experience  to  the 
mind  of  Bevy,  devout  Improved  New  Mennonite 
though  she  was. 

"  You  are  an  old  woman,"  protested  Bevy.  "  You 
are  older  than  I  in  your  ways.  Run  with  Whiskey 
a  little  like  you  used  to  run !  I  could  be  much  of tener 
here,  and  the  other  people  would  be  glad  to  sit  with 
gran 'mom.  I  even  put  cakes  for  you  in  the  hole  and 
you  don't  take  them  out  any  more!" 

Katy  was  really  very  happy  during  the  long 
winter.  Housekeeping  had  become  easy;  she  would 
accept  no  help  even  with  washing  and  cleaning. 
As  for  going  about  in  Millerstown,  Katy  laughed,  as 
neat,  aproned  in  housewifely  fashion,  she  sat  by  her 
grandmother's  bed. 

"  Shall  I  go  now  to  quiltings  and  surprise  parties 
when  I  would  not  go  before?  I  am  not  interested  in 
those  things." 

Often  there  was  time  in  the  long  afternoons  for 
Katy  to  sit  with  her  books.  She  knew  what  Alvin 
was  studying;  it  was  easy  at  first  to  keep  up  with 
him.  She  enjoyed  the  sense  of  importance  which  her 
position  as  head  of  the  house  gave  her.  Sarah  Ann 
dissolved  in  tears  as  she  praised  her;  Uncle  Edwin 
and  Aunt  Sally  made  much  of  her.  And  how  much 
more  important  was  she  than  any  of  them  knew! 


KATY  GAUMER  183 

Alvin  was  doing  well  at  school,  at  least  so  Alvin 
wrote.  When  trouble  came,  she  would  have  Alvin  to 
fly  to.  When  her  tasks  seemed  a  burden,  or  when 
studying  without  a  teacher  became  difficult,  or  when 
the  winter  storms  shook  the  house,  she  remembered 
how  he  had  kissed  her.  The  complication  which 
Dr.  Benner  had  feared  for  Katy  had  arrived.  Dr. 
Benner  was  by  this  time  married ;  in  the  glamour 
in  which  he  lived,  he  was  unconscious  of  the  exist 
ence  of  Katy  except  as  a  person  of  whom  questions 
must  occasionally  be  asked,  to  whom  directions 
must  sometimes  be  given.  His  wife  was  not  pleas 
ant  and  "common  " ;  she  was  "proud  " ;  she  gave  Mil- 
lerstown  to  understand  that  as  soon  as  she  could 
persuade  her  husband  to  buy  a  practice  in  a  more 
cultivated  community,  they  would  leave. 

At  Christmas  time  Alvin  did  not  come  home,  but 
went  instead  to  visit  a  schoolmate.  If  he  had  come, 
there  would  have  been  no  place  for  him  to  stay.  The 
little  house  on  the  mountain-side  was  cold  and 
deserted ;  it  would  probably  never  be  occupied  again. 
Alvin  wrote  occasionally  to  Katy  and  Katy  wrote 
regularly  to  him.  It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  he 
should  neglect  his  work  to  write  letters.  Fortu 
nately  the  Millerstown  post-office  was  presided  over 
at  present  by  old  man  Fackenthal,  who  did  not 
scrutinize  addresses  with  undue  closeness.  Never 
theless,  Katy  disguised  her  own  hand  and  dropped 
her  letters  into  the  slit  in  the  door  at  night. 

David  returned  at  Christmas  time  with  an  added 


184  KATY  GAUMER 

inch  of  height,  with  straighter  shoulders  and  a 
sterner  glance.  David  moved  swiftly,  answered 
questions  directly,  walked  alone  upon  the  mountain 
side,  or  sat  with  his  books  in  his  mother's  kitchen. 
He  seemed  to  have  had  some  improving,  enlighten 
ing  experience ;  college  had  already  done  a  great  deal 
for  him.  Him  Katy  did  not  see. 

Nor  did  Alvin  appear  in  the  summer  time,  except 
for  a  few  days  at  the  end.  He  had  asked  Katy  for 
another  fifty  dollars  in  the  spring,  and  she  had  sent 
it  to  him  without  stopping  to  consider  that  now 
more  than  half  of  her  money  was  gone.  Alvin  meant 
to  work  in  a  drug  store  this  summer,  at  least  so 
Alvin  said,  in  order  to  pay  part  of  his  debt.  But  the 
dispensing  of  soda  water  did  not  appear  to  have 
been  as  profitable  as  he  expected,  for  in  August, 
when  he  came  to  Millers  town,  he  borrowed  another 
fifty  dollars.  He  promised  certainly  now  that  he 
would  come  for  Christmas.  He  put  his  arms  boldly 
round  Katy  and  kissed  her  many  times.  It  seemed 
that  Alvin,  too,  had  had  illuminating  experiences. 

David  spent  the  summer  in  his  little  room  and  on 
the  mountain-side.  David  sometimes  lay  for  hours 
together  on  the  plateau  before  the  Sheep  Stable. 
Sometimes  he  carried  thither  the  books  which  he 
continued  to  study  diligently.  Sometimes  he  walked 
about,  climbing  among  rocks,  tramping  along  the 
arched  back  of  the  little  range  of  hills,  —  moun 
tains,  to  Millers  town.  David  sighed  contentedly 
and  breathed  deeply.  He  noted  the  dappled  shad- 


KATY  GAUMER  185 

ows,  the  wreathing  clematis,  the  tall  spikes  of  lobelia, 
the  odor  of  slippery  elm  the  first  reddening  branch 
of  the  gum  trees.  He  looked  down  upon  the  fertile 
fields,  upon  the  scattered  villages,  and  he  was  almost 
happy.  Then  David  returned  to  his  books.  It  was 
strange  that  he  should  study  so  earnestly  during  the 
long  summer.  Surely  David  with  his  good  mind 
had  not  fallen  behind  his  fellows! 

David's  illuminating  experiences  had  not  been 
entirely  those  which  study  and  knowledge  bring. 
David's  arrival  in  the  college  town  had  been  at  once 
observed  and  marked.  He  towered  above  his  fellows; 
he  had  a  look  of  greater  maturity  than  his  years 
would  warrant;  he  had  apparently  large  means  at 
his  command.  Upper  classmen  are  not  so  entirely 
devoted  as  is  supposed  to  the  abuse  of  the  entering 
novice.  Upon  the  novice  depends  the  continued 
existence  of  the  college  society  which  is  so  important 
a  part  of  the  college's  social  structure.  You  cannot 
very  well  urge  a  man  to  join  an  organization  of 
which  you  are  a  member  after  you  have  beaten  him 
or  held  his  head  under  an  icy  hydrant!  David's 
college  made  a  tacit  but  no  less  real  distinction 
between  the  youth  who  was  likely  to  prove  valuable 
society  material  and  the  youth  who  would  likely 
prove  to  be  merely  a  student.  David's  clothes  were 
of  the  best,  he  had  many  of  them,  he  occupied  an 
expensive  room;  it  was  evident  that  he  need  not 
have  recourse  to  the  many  shifts  by  which  the  poor 
boy  in  college  provides  himself  with  spending 


186  KATY  GAUMER 

money.  David  was  overlooked  in  the  disciplinary 
measures  by  which  many  of  his  classmates  were 
trained  to  respect  their  betters.  His  discipline  was, 
alas !  much  harder  to  endure ! 

He  accepted  in  his  silent  way  the  attentions  which 
were  showered  upon  him,  the  drives,  the  treats,  the 
introductions  to  foolish  young  ladies  whose  eyes 
spoke  their  admiration.  David  was  bewildered  and 
embarrassed,  and  David  for  a  time  wisely  remained 
silent.  There  was  no  reason  to  think  that  David 
had  not  been  brought  up  in  the  politest  of  society. 
But,  finally,  alas!  David  spoke. 

It  was  not  often  that  a  student  had  a  party 
given  especially  [for  him.  But,  as  the  seven  villages 
struggled  for  the  honor  of  the  birth  of  Homer,  so 
the  college  societies  longed  for  the  honor  of  pos 
sessing  David.  Finally  all  but  two  dropped  out 
of  the  race.  David  had  not  committed  himself  to 
either,  but  it  was  understood  that  in  accepting  the 
proffered  entertainment  he  was  practically  making 
his  decision. 

The  great  evening  approached ;  the  great  guest  in 
his  fine  apparel,  another  new  suit,  now  a  dress  suit 
made  by  the  college  tailor,  appeared  at  his  party. 
The  prettiest  girl  of  all  appointed  herself  his  com 
panion,  and  to  him  addressed  a  pretty  remark. 

"We  are  glad  to  have  you  here  at  college,  Mr. 
Hartman." 

Then  David  spoke.  The  prettiness  of  the  girl,  the 
formality  of  her  address,  the  bright  lights,  his  con- 


KATY  GAUMER  187 

spicuous  position  —  all  combined  in  David's  down 
fall.  David  did  not  speak  naturally  as  he  spoke 
now ;  David  had  no  trouble  with  th,  David  knew  the 
English  idiom;  David  knew  better,  oh,  much,  much 
better.  But  poor  David  reverted  to  type. 

"I  sank  myself,"  said  David  amid  a  great  and 
growing  hush.  Then  David  walked  out,  away  from 
the  pretty  girl,  away  from  the  bright  lights,  away, 
forever,  from  the  organization  which  had  sought 
him.  Overwhelmed  with  embarrassment,  outraged, 
David  sought  his  room  and  his  books.  David  could 
never  be  persuaded  to  return  to  the  society  in  which 
he  had  been  thus  humiliated;  he  never  emerged 
again  from  his  room  or  his  books  except  to  recite  or 
to  walk  or  to  go  to  his  meals  or  to  church.  He 
henceforth  lived  alone.  He  discovered  that  by  dili 
gent  study  he  could  accomplish  in  three  years  what 
he  had  expected  would  require  four.  The  sooner 
he  was  out  of  this  place  the  better.  He  went  weekly 
to  a  neighboring  city,  and  there,  finding  a  teacher 
of  elocution,  conquered,  he  was  sure  forever,  that 
damning  trick  of  speech.  He  grew  handsomer;  he 
filled  his  room  with  beautiful  furniture  and  many 
books;  his  allowance  assumed  in  the  eyes  of  his  col 
lege  mates  the  proportions  of  a  fortune  in  itself.  But 
David  could  not  be  induced  to  forget.  David  lost 
much,  but  David  in  his  sullen  hermitage  remained 
decent  and  unspoiled. 

Once  or  twice  in  the  summer  he  sat  with  Essie  on 
her  doorstep.  Essie  was  prettier  than  ever;  she  still 


188  KATY  GAUMER 

besought  him  to  be  "  plain."  David  laughed  at  her 
and  teased  her;  she  was  really  the  only  person  in 
the  world  with  whom  he  laughed.  His  mother's 
strength  seemed  to  have  failed ;  often  she  lay  down 
on  the  settle  before  it  was  dark,  but  only  when  she 
fell  asleep  did  David  find  her  in  this  ignominious 
position.  If  she  heard  a  step  she  sprang  up,  as 
though  she  had  committed  a  crime. 

Once  more  Christmas  approached  and  passed. 
This  time  again  there  was  no  visiting  governor,  no 
great  feast,  no  entertainment.  Again  Alvin  did  not 
come  home ;  he  did  not  now  write  a  letter  or  send  a 
gift.  Grandmother  Gaumer  was  worse ;  the  patience 
in  her  eyes  had  changed  to  a  great  weariness;  she 
had  ceased  to  be  able  to  move  or  to  speak. 

In  March  there  came  a  great  storm.  It  extin 
guished  all  the  village  lamps ;  it  whirled  across  the 
broad  breast  of  the  mountain,  sending  to  the 
ground  with  a  mighty  crash,  unheard  of  man,  many 
trees;  it  beat  against  the  Gaumer  house,  which 
seemed  to  tremble.  In  spite  of  the  storm,  however, 
Katy  put  on  her  scarlet  shawl  and  went  to  the  post- 
office,  as  of  old.  But  in  those  days  there  had  been  no 
such  feverish  haste  as  this ! 

Her  grandmother  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  as 
she  stood  by  the  bed  and  tried  to  smile.  Then  Katy 
went  out,  her  skirts  flying  in  the  wind,  the  rain 
beating  in  her  face.  She  plodded  along  as  best  she 
could,  without  the  old  sensation  of  a  viking  breast 
ing  an  angry  sea. 


KATY  GAUMER  189 

At  the  post-office  she  found  a  letter,  and  there 
stopped  to  read  it  because  she  could  not  wait. 

"Dear,  dear  Katy!"  With  what  a  wild  thrill 
Katy  beheld  the  opening  words.  Then  Katy  read  on. 
"  I  am  in  great  trouble,  Katy.  For  some  time  I  have 
not  had  enough  money  to  get  along,  and  now  I  must 
have  fifty  dollars.  Oh,  Katy,  try  and  get  it  for  me! 
Oh,  I  don't  know  what  will  happen,  Katy.  Oh, 
please,  Katy!" 

Katy  read  the  letter  through  twice ;  then  she  stood 
gaping.  Old  man  Fackenthal  spoke  to  her  and  she 
answered  without  knowing  what  she  said ;  then  she 
went  out  and  stood  in  the  rain,  trying  to  think. 
She  had  no  money;  her  last  cent  had  been  given  to 
Alvin  in  the  fall.  But  Alvin  had  appealed  to  her  to 
help;  it  was  —  oh,  poor  Katy!  —  an  honor  to  be 
thus  solicited.  No  one  else  could  help  him ;  he  would 
go  to  no  one  else  in  the  world. 

Like  a  shock  of  cold  water  upon  an  exhausted 
body,  fell  Alvin 's  request  upon  Katy's  weary,  tired 
soul.  When  the  necessity  for  an  English  entertain 
ment  was  made  clear  to  Katy,  plans  were  immedi 
ate,  execution  prompt.  Katy  had  known  at  once 
what  she  would  do.  She  forgot  now  that  she  had  no 
way  of  earning  money;  she  did  not  anticipate  that 
to  her  honest  soul  the  burden  of  a  debt  would  be 
almost  as  great  as  the  burden  of  remembered  theft. 
Boldly  she  presented  herself  to  the  squire  in  his 
office  and  there  made  her  request.  Nothing  was 
plain  to  Katy  except  Alvin's  bitter  need. 


190  KATY  GAUMER 

The  squire  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"That  is  a  good  deal  of  money,  Katy!"  But  the 
squire  had  seen  Katy  at  her  books.  "You  need 
books,  I  suppose,  and  things  to  wear.  I  see  you 
studying  and  sewing,  Katy.  You  are  not  to  slip 
back  in  your  studies  before  you  go  away." 

"I  will  give  you  a  paper  and  I  will  pay  interest," 
promised  Katy,  who  did  not  wish  to  discuss  the 
spending  of  the  money. 

The  squire  went  slowly  to  his  safe.  It  must  be 
very  dismal  for  the  child.  His  poor  sister-in-law  was 
not  likely  to  improve,  and  she  might,  alas!  be  a  long 
time  dying.  If  the  situation  were  not  changed  by 
fall,  the  child  must  be  sent  away  and  Edwin  must 
come  home  to  live.  He  remembered  his  own  bright 
little  sister;  he  remembered  the  plans  of  all  the 
family  for  Katy.  A  sudden  remorseful  conscious 
ness  that  they  had  forgotten  Katy,  and  that  they 
had  left  a  good  many  burdens  on  her  shoulders, 
moved  him  to  give  her  the  foolish  sum  for  which  she 
asked. 

"This  I  give  you,  Katy,"  said  he  as  he  counted 
the  money  into  her  hand.  It  was  not  strange  that 
the  squire  had  taken  so  few  journeys. 

"No,"  protested  Katy  with  a  scarlet  face;  it  is 
a  debt." 

Recklessly  Katy  slipped  the  money  into  an  enve 
lope  and  mailed  it,  and  Alvin,  receiving  it,  wept  for 
joy  and  thought  with  gratitude  of  the  sender.  The 
small  part  of  it  which  he  did  not  have  to  use  to  pay 


KATY  GAUMER  191 

his  most  pressing  debts  he  spent  upon  a  girl  from 
the  county  seat,  one  Bessie  Brown,  who  had  visited 
a  friend  at  the  normal  school,  and  for  whom  he  had 
great  admiration. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

EMPTINESS 

THE  great  March  storm  seemed  to  clear  the  way  for 
an  early  spring.  The  winter  had  been  unusually 
cold  and  long;  even  honeysuckle  and  ivy  vines  were 
winter-killed.  The  great  old  honeysuckle  vine  on 
the  Gaumer  porch  died  down  to  the  ground  and 
hung  a  mass  of  brown  stems,  through  which  the 
wind  blew  with  a  crackling  sound.  Day  after  day 
Millerstown  had  had  to  thaw  out  its  pumps.  To 
Sarah  Ann  Mohr,  who  had  once  read  an  account  on 
the  inside  pages  of  the  Millerstown  "Star"  of  the 
delicate  balance  of  meteorological  conditions,  the 
signs  were  ominous. 

"It  means  something,"  insisted  Sarah  Ann. 
"Once  when  my  mom  was  little  they  had  such  a 
winter  and  then  the  snow  fell  in  June  on  the  wheat. 
The  wheat  was  already  in  the  head  when  the  snow 
fell  on  it.  If  it  gets  only  a  little  colder  than  that, 
the  people  die." 

But  spring  returned.  Sarah  Ann  beheld  with  a 
thankful  heart  the  hyacinths  and  narcissus  in  her 
flower  beds  pushing  their  heads  through  the  soil, 
the  rhubarb  sprouting  in  her  garden;  she  breathed 
in  with  unspeakable  delight  the  first  balmy  breeze. 
Sarah  Ann's  friends  were  slipping  rapidly  away 


KATY  GAUMER  193 

from  her;  she  was  one  of  the  last  survivors  of  her 
generation;  but  her  appetite  was  still  good,  her  step 
firm,  her  eye  bright.  Sarah  Ann  was  a  devout  and 
trustful  Christian,  but  she  had  never  been  able  to 
understand  why  a  heaven  had  not  been  provided 
on  the  beautiful  earth  for  those  who  were  worthy.  , 

The  dogwood  put  out  earlier  than  usual  its  shelf- 
like  boughs  of  bloom;  before  the  end  of  April  bluets 
starred  the  meadows  round  the  Weygandt  dam, 
and  everywhere  there  was  the  scent  of  apple  blos 
soms.  Grandmother  Gaumer's  garden,  with  its 
vine-covered  wall,  its  box-bordered  paths,  its  innum 
erable  varieties  of  flowers,  was  a  place  of  magic. 
Though  its  mistress  was  away,  it  had  never  been  so 
beautiful,  so  sweet. 

In  it  Katy  walked  up  and  down  in  the  May  twi 
light.  She  moved  slowly  as  though  she  were  very 
idle  or  very  tired,  or  as  though  no  duties  waited  her. 
Her  face  was  white;  in  the  black  dress  which  she 
had  had  made  for  her  grandfather's  funeral  and 
which  her  grandmother  had  persuaded  her  to  lay 
away,  she  seemed  taller  and  more  slender  than  she 
was. 

Each  time  she  turned  at  the  end  of  the  garden 
walk,  she  looked  at  the  house  and  then  away  quickly. 
She  did  not  mean  to  look  at  all,  but  involuntarily 
she  raised  her  eyes.  The  parlor  windows  behind 
which  Grandmother  Gaumer's  lamp  had  shone  so 
long  were  blank.  In  the  room  above,  which  had 
been  Grandfather  and  Grandmother  Gaumer's  there 


194  KATY  GAUMER 

was  now  a  light.  Every  few  seconds  the  light  was 
darkened  by  the  shadow  cast  by  the  passing  to 
and  fro  of  a  large  figure.  From  the  same  room  came 
the  sound  of  a  child's  voice,  the  little  voice  of  "  Ehre 
sei  Gott"  in  the  Christmas  entertainment  long  ago. 
Now  it  was  raised  in  cheerful  laughter.  In  the 
kitchen,  Edwin  Gaumer  sat  by  the  table,  a  page 
of  accounts  before  him.  There  were  now  more  per 
sons  in  the  house  than  there  had  been  since  Katy 
had  been  taken  there  as  a  baby,  but  the  house 
was,  nevertheless,  intolerably  lonely.  Grandmother 
Gaumer's  life  was  ended;  she  had  been  laid  beside 
her  husband  in  the  Millerstown  cemetery.  She  had 
had  a  long  life;  she  had  outlived  almost  all  those 
whom  she  had  loved,  even  all  her  children  but  one; 
she  needed  no  mourning. 

But  Katy  sorrowed  and  would  not  be  comforted. 

"She  was  all  I  had.  I  have  a  few  other  friends  like 
the  squire  and  Sarah  Ann,  but  these  are  old,  too." 

Katy  walked  more  and  more  slowly  along  the 
garden  path.  Even  her  grandmother's  death  had 
brought  from  Alvin  no  letter. 

"I  cannot  understand  it,"  whispered  Katy  to 
herself;  "I  cannot  understand  it!" 

It  seemed  to  Katy  that  there  was  no  subject  in 
the  world  upon  which  her  thoughts  could  rest  com 
fortably,  no  refuge  to  which  her  weary,  sorrowful 
soul  could  flee.  During  her  grandmother's  illness, 
she  had  dreamed  of  Alvin,  of  his  progress  at  school, 
of  the  time  when  he  should  come  home  and  they 


KATY  GAUMER  195 

should  plan  together.  He  had  kissed  her  again  and 
again;  she  belonged  to  him  forever.  But  why,  oh, 
why  did  he  not  write?  There  was  for  poor  Katy 
only  anxiety  and  humiliation  in  the  world. 

"And  I  am  in  debt!"  she  mourned.  Her  constant 
reading  of  the  Bible  to  her  grandmother  had  fur 
nished  her  with  quotations  for  all  the  experiences 
of  life.  It  was  a  textual  knowledge  which  many 
preachers  would  have  envied  her.  It  gave  her  now  a 
vehicle  with  which  to  express  her  woes.  "  I  am  like 
David  in  the  cave,"  said  she.  "I  am  in  distress  and 
in  debt." 

"Fifty  dollars!"  whispered  Katy  as  she  walked 
up  and  down  the  garden  paths.  "  I  am  fifty  dollars 
in  debt!" 

It  was  true  that  the  squire  had  insisted  that  the 
money  must  be  a  gift.  But  the  squire  had  not  the 
least  suspicion  of  the  purpose  to  which  his  gift  had 
been  devoted. 

"They  have  nothing  for  Alvin,"  said  Katy  to 
herself.  "Alvin  has  had  no  chance.  He  will  surely 
pay  it  back  to  me.  I  am  certain  he  will  pay  it 
back!" 

The  dew  fell  damp  about  her,  but  still  Katy 
walked  on  and  on,  up  and  down  the  garden  paths. 
When,  finally,  she  went  into  the  kitchen,  her  Uncle 
Edwin  looked  up  at  her  blinking.  In  his  rugged  face 
was  all  the  kindness  and  sober  steadfastness  of  the 
Gaumers. 

"Sit  down  once,  Katy,"  said  he,  neither  in  com- 


196  KATY  GAUMER 

mand  nor  in  request,  but  with  gentle  entreaty.  "I 
want  to  talk  to  you  a  little." 

Katy  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  old  settle.  She 
would  listen  to  no  condolences;  every  fiber  in  her 
body  bristled  at  the  first  sign  of  sympathy.  Sym 
pathy  made  her  cry,  and  she  hated  to  cry.  Katy 
hated  to  be  anything  but  cheerful  and  happy  and 
prosperous  and  in  high  hope. 

Several  minutes  passed  before  Uncle  Edwin 
began  upon  his  subject.  Though  he  loved  Katy,  he 
stood  in  awe  of  her,  gentle  and  weak  though  she 
appeared  in  her  black  dress. 

His  first  question  was  unfortunately  worded. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  now,  Katy,  that 
gran 'mom  is  gone?" 

Katy  looked  at  him  sharply.  She  was  not  well; 
she  was  worried  and  unhappy;  she  found  it  easy  to 
misunderstand . 

"For  my  living,  you  mean?"  said  Katy,  cruelly. 

Uncle  Edwin  gazed,  open-mouthed  at  his  niece. 
He  would  have  been  ludicrous  if  he  had  not  been  so 
greatly  distressed. 

"Ach,  Katy!"  protested  he,  in  bewilderment. 

"What  do  you  mean,  then?" 

Uncle  Edwin  had  at  that  moment  not  the  faintest 
idea  of  what  he  meant.  He  hesitated  for  an  instant, 
then  he  stammered  out  an  answer. 

" I  mean,  Katy,  when  are  you  going  to  school?" 

The  room  swam  round  before  Katy's  dull  eyes. 
School!  She  was  never  going  to  school;  she  could 


KATY  GAUMER  197 

not  go  to  school.  But  a  more  acute  anxiety  threat 
ened;  the  moment  when  she  must  give  an  account 
of  her  two  hundred  dollars  was  probably  at  hand. 
Katy's  very  heart  stood  still. 

"I  am  not  going  to  school,'*  said  she. 

Again  Uncle  Edwin's  mouth  opened. 

"Why,  you  are,  Katy!" 

"Do  you  mean"  —  wildly  Katy  seized  upon  any 
weapon  of  defense  she  could  grasp:  it  was  easy  to 
confuse  Uncle  Edwin's  mind  —  "do  you  mean  when 
am  I  going  away  from  here?" 

Now  Uncle  Edwin's  blue  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

" Ach,  Katy!"  cried  he.  "We  are  only  too  glad  to 
have  you.  You  know  how  I  wanted  to  take  you 
when  you  were  a  little  baby,  and  Aunt  Sally  wanted 
you.  This  is  your  home  forever,  Katy.  But  you 
always  talked  so  of  school  and  education!" 

"I  do  not  care  for  education." 

Uncle  Edwin's  head  shook  with  the  activity  of  the 
mental  processes  within  it. 

"What!"  he  exclaimed,  incredulously.  Then  he 
took  a  fresh  start.  Katy's  ill-temper  was  incom 
prehensible,  but  when  she  heard  what  his  plans  were, 
she  would  be  cross  no  longer. 

"You  have  two  hundred  dollars  in  the  bank, 
Katy.  The  two  hundred  that  the  governor  sent  you 
a  while  back,  have  n't  you,  Katy?" 

He  did  not  ask  the  question  for  information,  but 
to  establish  the  points  of  his  simple  discourse. 

"Well,"  said  Katy,  faintly,  from  her  agitation. 


198  KATY  GAUMER 

"That  is  a  good  start.  Now  the  squire  will  help 
and  I  will  help.  We  have  this  all  arranged  between 
us.  Then,  when  you  come  of  age  you  will  get  the 
money  your  gran'mom  left  you.  But  that  you  are 
not  to  touch  for  your  education.  That  you  will 
leave  by  me,  because  I  am  your  guardian  in  the  law. 
You  were  faithful  to  your  gran'mom  till  the  end, 
and  you  are  not  to  spend  your  own  money  for  edu 
cation.  The  squire  and  I  will  look  after  that." 

The  muscles  of  Katy's  face  had  stiffened  and 
utterance  was  impossible.  All  the  old,  dear,  eager 
hope  filled  her  heart.  But  Alvin  was  still  precious 
to  her;  her  sacrifice  had  been  made  for  him;  the 
sacrifice  whose  extent  she  was  just  beginning  to 
understand.  This,  however,  was  no  time  to  think  of 
Alvin.  She  forced  herself  to  say  again  quietly  that 
she  was  not  going  to  school. 

1 '  Not — going  — •  to  • —  school ! ' '  cried  Uncle  Edwin 
with  long  pauses  between  his  words. 

"No,"  repeated  Katy.  "I  am  not  going  to 
school." 

Then  Katy  sought  her  room  and  her  bed. 

When  Uncle  Edwin  reported  his  interview  with 
Katy  to  the  squire,  the  squire  laughed. 

"Ach,  she  just  talks  that  way!  She  is  a  little 
contrary,  like  all  the  women  when  they  are  tired  or 
not  so  well.  Of  course  she  is  going !  She  was  in  here 
not  long  ago  talking  about  it  and  I  gave  her  some 
money  for  books  and  other  things." 

The  next  day  the  squire  himself  spoke  to  Katy. 


KATY  GAUMER  199 

"Are  you  getting  ready  for  school,  Katy?" 

"I  am  not  going  to  school." 

"Since  when  have  you  changed  your  mind?" 

"This  long  time." 

The  squire  turned  and  looked  at  Katy  over  his 
glasses. 

"Why,  it  is  only  a  little  while  since  I  gave  you 
money  for  books!" 

"You  didn't  give  me  money,"  corrected  Katy, 
stammering.  "It  was  a  loan;  I  said  it  was  a  loan. 
Else  I  would  n't  have  taken  it." 

"Humbug,  Katy!" 

If  the  squire  had  been  Katy's  guardian,  she  would 
have  gone  promptly  to  school.  But  Uncle  Edwin 
held  that  office  and  he  could  not  have  brought  him 
self  to  compel  Katy  to  do  anything.  The  squire 
argued  and  coaxed  and  cajoled  and  Katy  looked  at 
him  with  a  white  face  and  stubborn  eyes. 

"  It  was  n't  right  to  take  the  two  hundred  dollars 
from  Daniel  in  the  beginning  if  you  did  n't  intend 
to  use  it  for  schooling,  Katy.  What  are  you  going 
to  do?" 

"I  am  going  to  earn  my  living,"  answered  Katy. 
Her  debt  to  the  squire  was  swelling  to  tremendous 
proportions;  and  there  was  also  the  much  greater 
sum  for  which  she  could  give  no  account.  Katy 
was  sick  at  heart.  But  she  managed  to  end  the 
interview  lightly.  "I'm  going  to  earn  money  and 
save  it,  and  be  a  rich,  rich  woman." 

Once  safely  out  of  the  squire's  office,  Katy  walked 


200  KATY  GAUMER 

up  the  mountain  road.  She  must  be  alone,  to  think 
and  plan  what  she  must  do.  School?  Her  whole 
body  and  mind  and  soul  longed  for  school.  But  she 
could  never  go  to  school.  She  must  pay  the  squire 
his  fifty  dollars.  Suppose  he  should  ask  her  to  show 
him  the  books  and  dresses  she  had  bought!  She 
must  also  replace  the  whole  two  hundred  before  they 
found  her  out.  She  could  see  the  expression  of  amaze- 
ment  and  disgust  on  the  face  of  the  squire  at  the 
mere  suspicion  of  any  close  friendship  between  a 
Gaumer  and  a  Koehler.  People  despised  Alvin. 

"But  they  have  no  right  to,"  cried  Katy.  "I 
want  to  see  Alvin.  He  will  make  it  right,  I  am  sure 
he  will  make  it  right.  He  is  older  than  I!"  Katy 
spoke  as  though  this  fact  were  only  now  known  to 
her.  "He  has  no  right — "  But  Katy  went  no 
further:  her  love  had  been  already  sufficiently 
bruised  and  cheapened.  "I  have  tied  myself  up  in 
a  knot!  I  have  done  it  myself !" 

Katy  looked  down  upon  the  Hartman  house. 
Rumor  said  that  Mrs.  Hartman  was  failing;  the 
rare  visitors  to  her  kitchen  found  her  on  the  settle 
in  midday. 

"It  is  nothing  but  dying  in  the  world,"  mourned 
Katy.  "We  grow  up  like  grass  and  are  cut 
down." 

But  Katy  had  now  no  time  to  think  of  the  Hart- 
mans.  She  went  on  up  the  mountain  road  until  she 
reached  the  Koehler  house.  The  walls  needed  a  coat 
of  whitewash,  the  fences  were  brown,  the  garden 


KATY  GAUMER  201 

was  overgrown.  It  was  a  mean  little  place  in  its 
disorder. 

"He  never  had  a  chance,"  protested  Katy  in 
answer  to  some  inward  accusation.  Then  Katy  went 
drearily  home. 

By  the  first  of  June  Alvin  had  still  not  written; 
by  the  end  of  June  Katy  was  still  looking  for  a  letter. 
The  term  of  the  normal  school  had  closed;  it  was 
time  for  him  to  be  at  home.  Surely  he  could  not 
mean  to  stay  away  forever! 

Day  after  day  Katy 's  relatives  watched  her  solici 
tously,  expecting  her  grief  to  soften,  her  old  spirits 
to  return ;  day  by  day  Katy  grew  more  silent,  more 
depressed.  Uncle  Edwin  now  attacked  her  boldly. 

"Do  you  forget  how  smart  the  governor  thought 
you  were,  Katy?  "  Or,  "  It  was  bad  enough  for  your 
gran'mom  that  you  could  n't  go  to  school  for  two 
years,  Katy,  but  this  would  be  much  worse  for 
her." 

In  July  Uncle  Edwin  took  fresh  courage  and 
began  to  reproach  her.  If  she  was  going  to  school, 
no  time  must  be  lost,  they  must  make  plans,  she 
must  have  an  outfit. 

"David  Hartman  is  at  home,"  said  he.  "He  will 
be  very  learned.  He  is  smart.  But  he  is  not  so 
smart  as  you,  Katy.  Do  you  forget  how  you  were 
up  to  him  in  school  and  he  is  older  than  you?" 

Katy  swallowed  her  coffee  with  a  mighty  effort. 

"And  Alvin  Koehler  was  here  to-day,"  went  on 
Uncle  Edwin.  "He  wants  that  the  directors  should 


202  KATY  GAUMER 

give  him  the  Millers  town  school,  now  that  Carpenter 
is  no  longer  here.  We  think  he  should  have  it  while 
he  comes  from  Millerstown.  He  has  made  a  good 
deal  of  himself.  You  would  be  surprised  to  see  him. 
But  you  are  much  smarter  than  he,  Katy!" 

Katy  put  up  her  left  hand  to  steady  her  cup. 

"  If  he  gets  the  school,  he  is  going  to  get  married/' 
went  on  Uncle  Edwin  placidly.  "It  is  a  girl  from 
away.  I  am  surprised  that  Alvin  had  so  much  sense 
as  to  study  good  and  then  settle  down  and  get  mar 
ried.  He  said  he  had  such  an  agency  in  the  school 
for  hats  and  neckties  and  such  things.  That  was 
how  he  got  along.  There  is,  I  believe,  a  good  deal 
more  in  Alvin  than  we  thought.  But  you,  Katy  — 
Why,  Katy!" 

Katy  had  risen  from  the  table,  her  face  deathly 
pale. 

"  I  have  burned  myself  with  coffee,'1  said  she. 

Simultaneously  Uncle  Edwin  and  Aunt  Sally  and 
little  Adam  pushed  back  their  chairs. 

41  Ach,  Katy,  here;  take  water,  Katy!" 

"No,"  protested  Katy,  "it  is  not  so  bad  as  that. 
But  I  will  go  and  lie  down  a  little.  My  head  hurts 
me,  too.  I  am  tired  and  it  is  very  hot.  I  will  go  to 
my  room." 

Stammering,  Katy  got  herself  to  the  stairway. 
There,  having  closed  the  door  behind  her,  she  started 
up  the  steps  on  hands  and  knees.  At  the  top  she  sat 
down  for  a  moment  to  rest  before  she  crept  across 
the  room  to  her  bed.  Again  it  was  an  advantage  to 


KATY  GAUMER  203 

be  "Bibelfest,"  she  had  once  more  an  adequate 
vehicle  for  the  expression  of  her  woes. 

"  I  am  like  Job,"  wept  poor  Katy.  "  I  am  afflicted. 
I  am  a  brother  to  jackals  and  a  companion  to 
ostriches." 

Once  when  Katy  opened  her  eyes,  she  saw  oppo 
site  her  window  a  single,  pink,  sunset-tinted  cloud 
floating  high  in  the  sky.  Somehow  the  sight  made 
her  agony  more  bitter. 

Down  in  the  kitchen  Uncle  Edwin,  alarmed,  con 
fused,  distressed,  found  himself  confronted  by  an 
irate  spouse.  He  could  not  remember  another  occa 
sion  in  all  their  married  life  when  his  Sally  had  lost 
patience  with  him. 

"Now,  pop,"  said  she,  "it  is  enough.  You  are  to 
leave  poor  Katy  be." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

KATY  PLANS  HER  LIFE  ONCE  MORE 

FOR  a  long  time  Katy  lay  motionless  upon  her  bed. 
The  shock  of  Uncle  Edwin's  announcement  was 
overwhelming;  it  robbed  her  of  power  to  move  or 
think.  When  an  hour  later  Aunt  Sally  tiptoed  into 
the  room,  she  found  her  still  upon  her  bed,  her  face 
buried  in  the  pillow,  relaxed  in  what  seemed  to  be  a 
heavy  sleep.  Aunt  Sally  gathered  her  clothes  from 
the  untidy  heap  into  which  they  had  been  tossed, 
and  laid  them  on  the  back  of  a  chair  and  drew  down 
the  shade  so  that  the  sun  should  not  shine  directly 
into  the  sleeper's  eyes;  then  she  closed  the  door 
softly  and  went  down  the  steps. 

Katy  did  not  stir  until  the  sun  had  vanished 
behind  the  western  hills  and  the  stars  were  shining. 
Then  she  rose  and  bathed  her  face  and  sat  down  by 
the  window. 

"I  must  think,"  said  Katy.  "I  must  now  plan 
out  my  life  in  a  new  way." 

Stubbornly  she  forced  herself  to  face  the  event 
which  made  necessary  this  fresh  planning  of  her  life. 
Beyond  the  event  itself  she  did  not  at  this  moment 
proceed.  She  beheld  Alvin  with  his  red  tie,  Alvin 
with  his  dark  curls,  Alvin  with  his  beautiful  olive 
skin,  Alvin  with  his  great,  expressive  eyes.  Sitting 


KATY  GAUMER  205 

by  her  window  with  the  soft  evening  air  blowing  in 
her  face,  the  odors  of  the  garden  rising  sweetly  about 
her,  Adam's  gentle,  laughing  voice,  and  all  the  other 
pleasant  sounds  of  the  Millerstown  evening  in  her 
ears,  Katy  wept. 

"Oh,  Elend  (Misery)!"  cried  she,  after  the  man 
ner  of  Millerstown  in  trouble. 

After  a  while  the  voice  of  pride  made  itself  heard. 
It  was  not  Alvin  whom  she  defended,  but  herself. 

"No  word  of  marrying  was  said  between  us." 

"But  he  kissed  you,"  reminded  the  inward  voice. 
"You  thought  he  would  marry  you." 

To  this  Katy  could  return  only  the  answer  of 
flaming  cheeks  and  a  throbbing  heart. 

"And  there  is  all  the  money  you  gave  him!" 
reminded  the  voice  within  her. 

" I  said  he  need  n't  pay  it  back!" 
e"But  you  expected  him  to  pay  it  back!" 

"But  he  need  n't!" 

"An  honorable  person  would  pay  it  before  he  got 
married." 

"He  has  no  money!  He  has  nothing  to  pay  it 
with!" 

"He  had  an  agency  for  neckties!  He  has  enough 
to  get  married!" 

It  seemed  to  Katy  that  a  ring  of  queer  faces 
mocked  her.  She  had  eaten  only  a  mouthful  of 
supper,  and  she  was  a  little  light-headed.  She 
seemed  to  see  clearly  the  "lady  from  away"  of 
whom  her  uncle  had  spoken.  Imagination,  helped 


206  KATY  GAUMER 

by  recollection  of  the  beautiful  ladies  in  the  Allen- 
town  stores,  pictured  her  clearly.  She  was  brilliant 
and  beautiful  and  learned,  and  she  dressed  marvel- 
ously.  She  was  probably  an  acquaintance  whom 
Alvin  had  made  at  school;  she  was  all  that  Katy 
longed  to  be. 

Now  there  rushed  upon  Katy  a  new  and  terrible 
sensation.  She  had  been  envious  of  David  Hartman 
because  he  was  going  away  to  school,  but  here  was 
a  new  kind  of  envy  which  affected  not  only  the 
mind  but  the  whole  being.  She  threw  herself  down 
on  her  bed  once  more  and  hid  her  face  in  the  pillow 
and  wept  with  deep,  sobbing  gasps. 

Presently,  the  paroxysm  of  crying  over,  Katy 
rose  once  more  and  once  more  dashed  cold  water  over 
her  burning  cheeks. 

"I  will  not  cry  another  tear,"  said  she  with  stern 
determination.  "I  will  now  plan  my  life.  I  must 
first  earn  the  fifty  dollars  to  pay  back  the  squire; 
that  is  certain.  Beyond  that  is  nothing  —  nothing 
—  nothing  in  this  world.  My  young  life  is  ruined." 

For  an  hour  Katy  sat  by  the  window,  her  chin  in 
her  hands.  Frequently  tears  dropped  to  the  window 
sill,  but  she  gave  way  to  sobs  no  more. 

"My  heart  is  broken,"  declared  Katy.  "But  I 
must  live  on.  I  will  probably  live  to  be  a  thousand 
years  old.  I  wish  I  was  with  my  good  gran 'mom  in 
heaven.  I  wish"- — said  Katy  presently,  with  a 
long  sigh  —  "I  wish  I  had  been  born  into  this  world 
with  sense." 


KATY  GAUMER  207 

By  the  time  that  the  house  had  quieted  for  the 
night  and  the  sounds  of  Millerstown's  going  about 
had  ceased,  Katy,  too,  was  asleep.  She  stirred  un 
easily  on  her  pillow,  her  hands  now  clasped  under  a 
scarlet  cheek,  now  flung  above  her  head.  But  she 
had  outlined  her  working  theory. 

In  the  morning  she  appeared  in  good  time  for  her 
breakfast.  She  had  not  been  refreshed  by  her  rest 
less  [sleep,  but  the  first  sharpness  of  the  blow  was 
past.  In  the  doorway  of  the  kitchen  stood  Bevy, 
her  bright  eyes  sparkling  with  curiosity. 

"What  is  this  I  hear  about  Koehler's  boy?"  she 
asked  Edwin  Gaumer.  "Is  it  so  that  he  will  have 
the  Millerstown  school?" 

"It  looks  that  way,"  answered  Uncle  Edwin. 
"He  is  a  normal,  and  he  has  good  letters  from  the 
normal  about  his  work,  and  he  comes  from  Millers- 
town  and  we  should  help  our  own;  and  besides 
nobody  else  wants  the  Millerstown  school." 

"A  Koehler  teaching!"  Bevy  raised  her  hands  in 
an  astonished  gesture.  "  He  is  the  first  Koehler  that 
ever  knew  more  than  ABC.  The  school  board  will 
get  into  trouble.  This  will  never  go.  Where  will  he 
live?" 

"  He  will  rent  a  house.  He  is  getting  married  after 
school  takes  in." 

"Married!"  shrieked  Bevy.  The  suspicion  that 
friendly  relations  existed  between  Katy  and  Alvin 
had  grown  to  certainty.  Now,  furious  as  Bevy  had 
been  because  Katy  had  so  lowered  herself,  she  re- 


208  KATY  GAUMER 

sented  Alvin's  daring  to  attach  himself  to  any  one 
else.  "What  cake-not-turned  will  have  him?" 

"A  lady  from  away.  I  think  she  comes  from  Allen- 
town." 

"  You  have  right  to  say  from  away,"  sniffed  Bevy. 
"No  girl  from  here  would  look  twice  at  him." 

Katy  turned  her  back  upon  Bevy  as  she  lifted  the 
breakfast  from  the  stove  to  the  table.  Sharp  stabs 
of  pain  pierced  her.  She  would  have  to  hear  a  dozen 
times  that  day  that  Alvin  was  to  be  married.  The 
strain  of  listening  to  Bevy's  comments  was  almost 
more  than  she  could  endure.  It  had  been  important 
before  that  no  one  should  suspect  that  she  was  help 
ing  Alvin ;  now  it  had  become  absolutely  imperative. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  Katy  started  down  the 
street  to  carry  out  her  plan  of  life.  Her  dress  was 
longer  than  was  becoming,  the  spring  had  gone  out 
of  her  step.  She  passed  the  store  and  the  post-office 
and  turned  up  Church  Street,  and  there  beheld 
approaching  the  object  of  her  journey,  who  started 
visibly  at  sight  of  her.  David  had  grown  still  taller; 
he  wore  still  more  elegant  clothes;  he  would  have 
found  an  even  more  cordial  welcome  to  the  societies 
of  his  college  than  would  have  been  extended  to  him 
upon  entering.  He  was  certain  that  he  could  be 
graduated  in  June  of  the  next  year,  and  he  was 
pleasantly  aware  of  his  position  as  the  most  wealthy 
and  the  most  reserved  student  in  college.  David 
liked  the  distinction.  His  speech  was  now  entirely 
English;  he  was  certain  that  it  would  be  impossible 


KATY  GAUMER  209 

for  him  to  blunder  again.  He  had  determined  that 
when  he  had  graduated  he  would  travel;  he  would 
never  live  for  many  months  at  a  time  in  dull  Millers- 
town.  David  added  another  adjective  to  Katy's 
characterization  of  that  busy,  tidy  village;  he  called 
it  bourgeois.  David  had,  indeed,  soared  high  above 
the  low  plane  of  his  origin!  He  had  found  among 
the  few  books  in  the  Hartman  house  the  pictures  of 
Paris  and  Amiens  and  Canterbury,  and  had  learned 
for  the  first  time  that  his  father  had  been  abroad. 
The  mystery  of  his  father  was  thereby  deepened. 
There  was  only  one  portion  of  David's  heart  which 
had  not  hardened ;  in  that  his  father  was  enthroned. 
His  father,  he  was  convinced,  had  had  great  powers, 
but  he  was  held  to  earth  and  to  Millerstown  by  a 
cruel  fate  which  had  linked  him  forever  to  an  un 
worthy  companion.  Thus  had  Cassie's  son  decided 
against  her. 

David  was  astonished  to  hear  Katy  call  to  him. 

"Come  here,  please,  David.  I  want  to  talk  to 
you." 

He  crossed  the  street  at  once  and  stood  looking 
down  at  her.  He  could  not  help  seeing,  even  though 
he  had  relegated  Katy  forever  to  obscurity  in 
Millerstown,  that  Katy  had  not  become  altogether 
unattractive.  Her  eyes  no  longer  sought  his  brightly, 
she  looked  down  or  past  him  as  he  came  toward  her. 
He  wondered  what  possible  errand  she  could  have 
with  him.  He  felt  his  face  flushing  and  he  was  furi 
ous  with  himself. 


210  KATY  GAUMER 

"  How  are  you,  Katy  ?  "  said  he,  his  voice  sounding 
strangely  in  his  ears. 

Katy  did  not  hear  his  question.  Her  thoughts 
were  fixed  upon  the  plan  of  life. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  something,  David. 
I  was  going  to  your  house.  The  doctor  said  your 
mother  was  not  well.  I  heard  him  say  to  the  squire 
that  she  would  have  to  have  a  girl  to  live  with  her 
when  you  went  back  to  school.  I  would  like  the 
place,  David. " 

David 's  eyes  nearly  popped  from  his  head.  It 
was  true  that  his  mother  seemed  feeble  and  that  he 
had  been  making  inquiries  about  a  maid  for  her. 
But  by  such  an  offer  as  this  he  was  dumbfounded. 
Had  Katy  lost  her  mind?  No  Gaumer  had  ever 
worked  out.  Her  relatives  were  comfortably  fixed; 
she  would  doubtless  have  some  money  of  her  own 
when  she  came  of  age.  Where  was  Alvin  Koehler, 
the  despicable,  to  whom  Katy  had  seemed  attached? 
Had  he  heard  her  aright?  He  could  only  look  at  her 
and  gasp  out  a  foolish,  "  You!11 

"I  can  work,"  said  Katy,  with  a  scarlet  face. 
"  I  did  all  the  work  when  my  grandmother  was  sick 
for  so  long." 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  school?  "  David  grew  more 
and  more  astonished  as  he  became  convinced  that 
Katy  was  in  earnest. 

"I  am  not  going  to  school,"  said  Katy.  "If  I 
cannot  get  a  place  to  work  at  your  house,  I  will  get 
a  place  somewhere  else,  that  is  all." 


KATY  GAUMER  en 

"Are  you  in  any  trouble,  Katy?"  asked  David. 
"Can  I  do  anything  for  you?" 

Katy's  head  lifted.  David  Hartman  was  pitying 
her,  asking  to  be  allowed  to  help  her.  It  was  intol 
erable.  She  realized  now  how  tall  he  was,  how  deep 
his  gray  eyes,  how  fair  his  white  skin;  she  remem 
bered  her  gingham  apron,  her  debt,  her  disappointed 
hopes,  every  embarrassment  and  pain  that  had 
befallen  her. 

"There  is  nothing  wrong,  of  course, "  said  she 
coldly  as  she  turned  away.  "That  is  all  I  wanted  of 
you." 

"Oh,  but  wait ! "  David  went  to  her  side  and  kept 
pace  with  her.  He  did  not  proceed  with  his  speech 
at  once.  The  old  vision  dazzled  him,  Katy  in  a 
scarlet  dress,  Katy  laughing,  Katy  racing  down  the 
pike.  It  was  abominable  for  her  to  become  a  servant 
—  upon  this  subject,  also,  David's  opinions  had 
advanced.  What  in  the  world  were  her  relatives 
about?  But  if  she  must  live  out,  it  would  be  better 
for  her  to  work  for  his  mother  than  to  work  at  the 
hotel  —  the  only  other  establishment  in  Millerstown 
which  required  the  services  of  a  maid.  He  would 
then  have  her  in  his  house;  the  notion  set  David's 
cheeks  suddenly  to  burning,  his  heart  to  throbbing. 
He  wondered  what  room  his  mother  would  give  her, 
where  she  would  sit  at  the  table,  what  she  would  do 
in  the  evenings  when  her  time  was  her  own. 

"Do  you  want  to  engage  me?"  asked  Katyr 
sharply;  "or  don't  you  want  to  engage  me?" 


212  KATY  GAUMER 

"My  mother  will  be  only  too  glad  to  have  you," 
said  David,  eagerly. 

"I  will  come  when  your  school  opens,"  promised 
Katy,  as  she  turned  the  corner. 

"If  I  get  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  week,"  —  the 
standard  of  wages  in  Millerstown  was  not  high,  — 
"it  will  take  me  thirty-three  and  a  third  weeks  to 
save  fifty  dollars,"  reckoned  Katy.  "That  will  take 
from  September  till  June.  After  that  I  do  not  think 
of  anything.  Perhaps  by  that  time  I  will  die.  Then 
I  do  not  care  if  they  find  out  that  I  have  n't  my  two 
hundred  dollars  any  more." 

Katy  at  home  went  on  with  her  accustomed  tasks. 
She  was  silent;  she  avoided  her  aunt  and  uncle, 
since  any  sudden,  gentle  address  made  her  certain 
that  she  was  going  to  cry.  She  put  little  Adam  down 
whenever  he  wished  to  climb  up  beside  her  on  the 
settle ;  she  was  to  every  one  a  trying  puzzle.  In  her 
nervousness  she  had  often  a  desire  to  stand  still  and 
scream. 

One  evening  the  squire  came  into  the  Gaumer 
kitchen.  Edwin  lay  on  the  settle  asleep,  his  wife  sat 
by  the  table  sewing,  little  Adam  was  long  since  in 
bed.  Katy,  too,  had  gone  upstairs.  Forgetting  now 
that  she  had  announced  her  intention  of  going  to 
bed  immediately,  she  left  her  place  by  the  window 
to  go  down  for  a  drink,  and  came  face  to  face  with 
the  squire  who  was  entering.  The  squire  looked 
grave;  he  seated  himself  in  Grandfather  Gaumer's 
armchair  as  though  he  meant  to  hold  court.  In  a 


KATY  GAUMER  213 

flash  Katy  knew  what  he  had  come  to  say.  Uncle 
Edwin  sat  up  blinking,  Aunt  Sally  dropped  her 
sewing  into  her  lap.  The  squire  did  not  often  pay 
calls  so  late  in  the  evening. 

"Katy,"  began  the  squire  in  a  stern  voice,  "what 
is  this  I  hear  about  you?" 

Katy's  hand  was  still  upon  the  latch  of  the  stair 
way  door;  she  grasped  it  for  support.  She  had 
thought  that  she  was  prepared  for  the  coming  inter 
view,  but  she  was  now  badly  frightened.  Never 
before  had  the  squire  spoken  to  her  with  anything 
but  gentleness  and  affection. 

"What  do  you  hear  about  me?" 

"Benner  came  in  just  now  on  his  way  from  Cas- 
sie  Hartman's.  He  had  been  trying  to  find  a  girl  for 
her.  She  said  that  now  she  would  not  need  one,  that 
you  were  going  to  hire  out  to  her  in  September." 

Uncle  Edwin  blinked  more  rapidly.  Aunt  Sally's 
lips  parted. 

"Well? "said  Katy. 

"Is  this  thing  so?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Katy,  bravely.  "There  is 
nothing  wrong  in  it.  It  is  honest." 

"You  are  going  to  hire  out!"  cried  Edwin. 

Aunt  Sally  began  to  cry.  These  tears  were  not 
the  first  she  had  shed  on  Katy's  account. 

"What  for?11  demanded  Uncle  Edwin.  "You 
have  a  home.  I  told  you  we  would  send  you  to 
school.  You  need  not  even  touch  your  money.  What 
is  this,  Katy?" 


214  KATY  GAUMER 

"I  want  to  earn  my  living,  that  is  all."  Katy's 
voice  was  dry  and  hard.  "It  is  surely  my  right  to 
earn  my  living  if  I  want  to!" 

"Earn  your  living  if  you  must!"  said  the  squire, 
gruffly.  "Of  course  you  can  earn  your  living  if  you 
want  to.  But  go  to  school  and  learn  to  earn  it 
right." 

"  I  do  not  want  to  go  to  school." 

The  squire  looked  at  her  helplessly.  Then  he 
crossed  the  room  and  took  her  by  the  shoulders  and 
seated  her  on  the  settle  between  Edwin  and  him 
self.  He  was  a  persuasive  person ;  it  was  hard  for  any 
one  to  deny  him  what  he  commanded  or  what  he 
requested. 

"Katy,  dear,  are  you  in  any  trouble?" 

Katy  actually  prayed  for  help  in  her  prevarica 
tion. 

"No." 

"There  is  Edwin  and  here  am  I,"  went  on  the 
squire.  "We  are  strong  enough  to  do  up  anybody. 
Now,  what  is  the  matter,  Katy?" 

"Nothing,"  insisted  Katy. 

"You  once  wanted  to  sing,"  Aunt  Sally  reminded 
her.  "You  were  wonderful  strong  for  singing." 

"Sing!"  echoed  Katy.  "I,  sing?  I  can  only  caw 
like  a  crow." 

"You  had  such  plans,"  said  Uncle  Edwin.  "You 
were  going  to  be  so  educated.  You  were  going  to 
bring  home  your  sheaves!" 

"I  have  more  sense  now,"  explained  Katy. 


KATY  GAUMER  215 

She  looked  at  them  brightly.  Her  eyes  measured 
their  broad  shoulders  —  how  she  longed  to  lay  her 
heavy  burden  upon  them!  She  no  longer  belonged 
to  her  kin,  she  was  an  alien;  she  had  allied  herself 
with  Koehlers,  with  William  Koehler  who  was  a 
thief,  with  Alvin  Koehler  who  scorned  her.  She 
would  sooner  die  than  tell  what  she  had  done.  The 
Gaumers  were  not  niggardly,  but  they  knew  the 
value  of  money.  Even  Katy  had  learned  that  it 
took  thirty-three  and  one  third  weeks  to  earn  fifty 
dollars ! 

"  You  must  let  me  be ! "  she  burst  out  wildly.  "  I 
am  not  a  child.  I  have  no  father  and  mother  and  my 
dear  grandfather  and  grandmother  are  dead.  You 
must  let  me  be!  You  are  persecuting  me!" 

In  an  instant  the  stairway  door  closed  in  the  faces 
of  her  astonished  elders.  Uncle  Edwin  got  out  his 
handkerchief  and  wiped  his  eyes. 

"  Millerstown  will  think  we  are  ugly  to  her,"  he 
said. 

"I  do  not  care  what  Millerstown  thinks,"  de 
clared  the  squire  as  he  rose  to  go.  "It  is  what  / 
think.  In  the  name  of  sense  what  has  come  over  the 
girl?" 

In  her  room  Katy  threw  herself  once  more  upon 
that  oft-used  refuge,  her  bed. 

"If  I  could  forget  him,"  she  moaned.  "If  I  only 
could  forget  him.  It  is  not  right  to  think  of  him.  I 
cannot  be  learned,  but  I  can  be  good.  It  is  wrong  to 
think  all  the  time  of  him."  She  remembered  various 


216  KATY  GAUMER 

women  in  the  village  who  loved  inconstant,  unfaith 
ful  men.  "I  am  a  Mary  Wolle!  I  am  Sally  Hersh ! 
I  am  a  shame  to  myself !" 

Three  times  before  September  the  squire  reasoned 
with  her.  Even  the  doctor  ventured  to  remonstrate. 

"No  Gaumer  has  ever  done  such  a  thing  before, 
Katy." 

"Well,  you,"  said  Katy  with  spirit,  "are  not  a 
Gaumer,  so  you  do  not  need  to  care." 

At  her  Bevy  stormed. 

"You  surely  have  one  rafter  too  few  or  too  many, 
Katy.  There  is  something  wrong  with  your  little 
house!  Are  you  crazy,  Katy?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Katy,  thus  nearly  paralyzing 
Bevy  Schnepp.  "I  am." 

In  September  Katy  took  up  her  abode  at  the 
Hartmans'.  Millerstown  saw  her  go  with  wonder. 
She  carried  a  little  satchel  and  walked  with  her  chin 
in  the  air.  Millerstown  gazed  out  doors  and  windows 
to  see  whether  the  thing  it  had  heard  could  be  true. 

" Ach,  Katy!"  protested  Sarah  Ann,  "are  you  not 
going  to  be  high  gelernt?"  Sarah  Ann  suspected 
some  difficulty  at  home;  her  sympathetic  soul  was 
distressed  for  Katy.  "You  can  come  any  time  and 
live  with  me." 

"Won't  you  ever  go  to  your  uncle  any  more?" 
asked  Susannah  Kuhns,  her  frank  inquiry  voicing 
the  curiosity  of  Millerstown. 

Katy  turned  and  faced  them. 

"Why,  certainly  I  will.  I  will  go  there  every  day.1* 


KATY  GAUMER  217 

Alvin  Koehler  had  opened  the  Millerstown  school 
and  had  already  rented  a  house  from  William  Knerr 
the  elder.  Katy  saw  him  almost  daily;  he  had  even 
stopped  her  on  the  street  to  tell  her  that  he  had  not 
forgotten  her.  He  exuded  satisfaction  with  himself 
from  every  pore;  he  would  even  have  told  her  about 
his  Bessie  if  Katy  had  lingered  for  an  instant. 

"She  is  not  so  good-looking  as  she  once  was,  Katy 
is  n't,"  said  Alvin  as  he  looked  after  her. 

David  Hartman  had  gone  when  she  reached  his 
mother's  house.  Mrs.  Hartman  lay  upon  the  settle 
in  the  kitchen.  Her  face  was  pale;  she  sat  up  with 
difficulty  when  Katy  came  in.  She  knew  little  of 
the  affairs  of  Millerstown;  she  did  not  speculate 
about  the  reasons  for  Katy's  presence  in  her  house. 

"It  is  a  long  time  since  my  house  was  cleaned 
right,"  she  complained.  "We  must  begin  at  the  top 
and  clean  everything.  To-day,  though,  we  will  clean 
David's  room.  That  is  where  you  are  to  sleep.  You 
can  first  scrub  the  cupboards  and  dust  the  books 
and  put  them  away  in  the  cupboard.  He  has  many, 
many  books  and  they  gather  dust  so.  Then  stuff  a 
dust-cloth  tight  under  the  door  while  you  clean  the 
rest.  And  take  the  bed  apart  so  you  can  dust  it 
well." 

Mrs.  Hartman  lay  down,  breathless.  The  Gaumers 
had  the  reputation  of  being  fine  housekeepers;  she 
hoped  that  her  house  would  again  be  restored  to 
cleanliness.  Her  son,  with  his  untidy,  mannish  ways, 
was  gone;  peace  had  returned. 


2i8  KATY  GAUMER 

By  Saturday  Katy  had  become  acquainted  with 
the  attic  of  the  great  house,  the  house  which  in  her 
childhood  had  been  to  her  the  abode  of  Mystery. 
The  attic,  with  its  store  of  discarded  but  good 
furniture,  its  moth-guarded  chests,  was  clean;  it 
had  been  swept,  whitewashed,  aired,  scrubbed, 
made  immaculate.  Each  garment  had  been  carried 
down  to  the  yard,  had  there  been  beaten  and  sunned, 
and  then  had  been  restored  to  its  proper  place. 
Cassie,  making  her  painful  way  to  the  third  story, 
pronounced  the  work  good.  The  next  week  the 
bedrooms  were  to  be  similarly  treated.  Into  their 
magnificence  Katy  had  peered,  round-eyed.  Here 
was  no  mystery,  here  was  only  grandeur.  Thus  Katy 
would  have  furnished  her  house. 

On  Saturday  evening  when  work  was  done,  Katy 
went  down  to  sit  with  Aunt  Sally.  She  was  desper 
ately  tired;  such  toil  as  Cassie  Hartman  directed 
had  not  come  within  the  Gaumer  experience.  But 
Katy  was  happier;  that  was  plain  even  to  the  eyes 
of  Aunt  Sally,  who  shook  her  head  over  the  strange 
puzzle.  Katy  had  had  no  time  for  thinking.  And 
into  the  putlock  hole  she  had  dropped  a  dollar  and 
a  half.  The  putlock  hole  was  a  safe  bank;  only  a 
small  hand  like  her  own  could  reach  into  the  inner 
depths  into  which  she  thrust  her  precious  earnings. 


CHAPTER  XV 

AN  OLD  WAY  OUT  OF  A  NEW  TROUBLE 

ON  the  morning  of  the  1st  of  September,  Alvin 
dressed  himself  handsomely  and  went  out  the  pike 
to  the  schoolhouse.  The  school  board  had,  at  his 
request,  advanced  his  first  month's  salary,  and  with 
a  part  of  it,  though  he  was  not  to  be  married  until 
January,  he  had  paid  the  rent  of  the  little  house  on 
Main  Street,  and  with  the  rest  he  had  bought  a  pres 
ent  for  Bessie.  It  must  be  confessed  that  no  gener 
ous  spirit  dictated  Alvin's  giving  of  gifts.  It  was  a 
proper  thing  to  give  girls  presents,  thereby  one  made 
an  impression  upon  them  and  upon  their  friends. 
But  it  also  deprived  the  giver  of  luxuries.  Alvin  had 
begun  to  anticipate  eagerly  the  time  when  he  would 
no  longer  need  to  make  presents  to  Bessie. 

Bessie  was  a  saleswoman  in  a  store  in  a  county 
seat ;  she  received  good  wages  and  lived  at  home. 

"What  I  earn  is  mine,"  she  explained.  "My  pop 
buys  even  some  of  my  clothes  for  me.  I  need  only  buy 
my  fancy  clothes.  I  have  a  nice  account  in  the  bank. ' ' 

Bessie  was  a  thrifty  soul;  she  had  made  Alvin 
persuade  his  landlord,  Billy  Knerr,  the  elder,  to  take 
two  dollars  a  month  less  than  he  had  asked  at  first 
for  the  little  house.  She  had  planned  already  the 
style  of  furniture  she  wished  for  each  room. 


220  KATY  GAUMER 

"It  is  to  be  oak  in  the  dining-room,"  Alvin  ex 
plained  to  Sarah  Ann  Mohr,  with  whom  he  took  his 
meals.  Alvin  had  reached  that  point  in  his  self- 
satisfaction  when  he  would  have  bragged  to  stones 
and  trees  if  there  had  been  no  human  creature  at 
hand  to  listen.  In  Sarah  Ann  he  had  an  eager  hearer. 
Sarah  Ann  sat  at  close  attention  with  parted  lips 
and  shining  eyes.  Sometimes  she  cried  out,  "Du 
liefer  Friede"  (Thou  dear  peace)!  or,  "Bei  meiner 
Seele"  (By  my  soul)! 

"There  is  to  be  a  sideboard  and  a  serving- table 
to  match,"  went  on  Alvin. 

Sarah  Ann  opened  her  mouth  a  little  wider. 

"What  is  a  serving- table,  Alvin?" 

"A  serving-table  is  a  —  it  is  —  a  —  a  table," 
explained  Alvin.  "You  serve  on  it." 

"Oh,  of  course,"  said  Sarah  Ann,  without  under 
standing  in  the  least.  "I  am  astonished,  Alvin!" 

"We  are  just  going  to  furnish  two  bedrooms  now. 
When  we  have  a  servant,  then  it  will  be  time  enough 
to  furnish  the  other  room." 

Sarah  Ann's  eyelids  fluttered  up  and  down. 

"A  servant!  Ach,  Alvin,  I  hope  you  are  not  going 
to  marry  a  sick  one!" 

"Of  course  not,"  protested  Alvin.  "Of  course  not, 
Sarah  Ann!"  Alvin's  chest  expanded,  he  breathed 
deeply.  "Ladies  in  the  city  do  not  do  their  own 
work,  Sarah  Ann!" 

"Ladies!"  repeated  Sarah  Ann.  Here  was  the 
capstone  of  Alvin's  grandeur.  A  lady  was  to  Millers- 


KATY  GAUMER  221 

town  almost  a  mythical  creature.  "Are  you,  then, 
marrying  a  lady,  Alvin?" 

"To  be  sure,"  answered  Alvin.  "She  never  yet 
had  to  work  in  a  kitchen.  She  is  in  the  store  just 
because  she  likes  it.  Her  pop  is  rich/' 

"  Do  you  mean  she  cannot  cook,  Alvin?  Or  wash? 
Or  bake?" 

"She  could,"  said  Alvin.  "She  could  if  she  wanted 
to.  But  she  does  n't  like  it." 

"Doesn't  like  it!"  As  well  might  one  say  that 
Bessie  did  not  like  to  sleep  or  eat  or  breathe !  Sarah 
Ann's  own  breath  was  quite  taken  away.  She  shook 
her  head  ponderously,  certain  that  either  she  or 
Alvin  was  going  crazy.  Then  a  question  occurred 
to  Sarah  Ann.  She  had  really  a  delicate  sense  of 
propriety;  if  she  had  stopped  to  think,  she  would 
not  have  asked  the  question.  But  it  was  out  before 
she  could  restrain  herself.  "  You  will  then  bring  your 
pop  home  from  the  poorhouse,  I  suppose,  Alvin?" 

Alvin  blushed.  He  did  not  like  to  have  any  one 
mention  his  father. 

"  Father  is  not  in  the  poorhouse  because  he  is  poor. 
He  is  there  because  he  has  lost  his  mind." 

"Ach,  Alvin,  he  is  better,  indeed,  he  is  better!  I 
was  at  the  poorhouse  to  help  with  a  prayer  meeting, 
and,  indeed,  he  is  almost  himself,  Alvin." 

Alvin  rose  from  his  seat  on  Sarah  Ann's  bench. 
The  conversation  had  taken  a  turn  he  did  not  like. 

"I  could  not  have  pop  with  Bessie,"  he  insisted. 
"Pop  could  easily  become  violent." 


222  KATY  GAUMER 

When  he  had  left  her,  Sarah  Ann  sat  paralyzed. 
Her  whole  soul  longed  for  the  listening  ear  of 
Susannah  Kuhns,  but  as  yet  her  body  had  not 
gathered  strength  enough  to  transport  itself  to 
Susannah's  house.  Mercifully,  the  fates  arranged 
that  Susannah  should  observe  the  departing  Alvin 
and  should  hurry  over  as  fast  as  her  feet  could  carry 
her.  Susannah  liked  to  hear  Sarah  Ann  tell  of  the 
strange  events  of  which  she  read,  of  the  man  whose 
head  was  turning  into  the  head  of  a  lion,  of  the  dog 
who  had  learned  to  talk,  of  the  woman  who  put 
glass  into  her  husband's  pies.  But  Susannah  loved 
better  to  hear  Sarah  Ann  tell  of  Alvin. 

Now  Susannah  stood  with  arms  akimbo,  with 
shakes  of  head,  with  astonished  clapping  of  lips 
together. 

''This  makes  the  understanding  stand  still," 
declared  Susannah  as  she  listened. 

"He  gave  her  a  ring  already,"  went  on  Sarah  Ann. 
"He  has  a  wedding  present  ready  for  her.  He  let 
himself  be  enlarged  from  a  photograph  and  he  has 
a  big  picture.  He  carries  a  cane  in  the  picture.  He 
has  it  hung  up  already  in  his  house.  He  said  I  should 
come  over  once  and  he  would  show  it  to  me." 

In  Alvin 's  course  at  the  normal  school  he  had 
studied  not  only  pedagogy  and  psychology,  but  he 
had  had  practical  experience  in  teaching.  Connected 
with  the  normal  school  was  a  model  school.  There, 
in  a  light  and  airy  room  whose  windows  were  filled 
witty  blooming  plants  and  whose  walls  were  decked 


KATY  GAUMER  223 

with  pictures,  Alvin  had  given  the  "May  lesson,"  a 
half-hour  of  instruction  in  the  blossoms  and  birds  of 
spring.  Vases  of  snowballs  and  iris  and  dishes  of 
bluets  and  violets  served  as  illustrations  for  his 
remarks;  he  had  also  pictures  of  flickers  and  robins. 
His  class  was  orderly  and  polite.  For  a  month  he 
had  prepared  for  this  half-hour  of  teaching;  he  had 
even  reviewed  with  the  superintendent  of  the  model 
school  what  he  meant  to  say  and  had  received  her 
advice  and  approval.  Alvin  thought  so  much  about 
himself  and  so  little  about  any  other  subject  that 
he  had  by  this  time  forgotten  the  ways  of  the 
Millerstown  school.  The  Millerstown  school  and 
the  model  school  were  not  much  alike. 

He  received  after  his  lesson  was  over  a  commenda 
tory  letter  from  the  superintendent,  the  same  letter 
which  he  had  proudly  exhibited  to  Edwin  Gaumer 
and  the  other  directors.  The  superintendent  said 
that  he  was  a  young  man  of  good  presence,  that  he 
had  thoroughly  mastered  his  subject,  that  he  had 
held  the  interest  of  his  pupils  throughout  his  teach 
ing  period,  and  had  maintained  perfect  discipline. 
The  superintendent  did  not  say  that  she  herself  was 
a  stern  person,  whom  no  child  would  disobey,  and 
that  she  had  remained  in  the  room  while  the  lesson 
was  in  progress.  The  model  school  superintendent 
could,  to  be  sure,  have  conducted  the  lesson  no 
differently.  It  would  hardly  have  been  wise  to  train 
the  model  school  children  to  test  the  disciplinary 
powers  of  their  teachers  by  insubordination,  in 


224  KATY  GAUMER 

order  that  the  teachers  might  be  trained  in  the  vari 
ous  methods  for  quelling  riots! 

On  the  1st  day  of  September,  Alvin  put  on  his 
best  suit  and  went  to  school.  He  had  been  care 
fully  instructed  in  the  importance  of  first  impres 
sions,  the  necessity  for  brightness  and  cheerfulness 
of  hue  as  well  as  of  disposition  in  the  schoolroom. 
He  had  quite  forgotten  that  the  Millerstown  teach 
ers  were  expected  to  dust  and  sweep  the  room  in 
which  they  taught. 

He  looked  for  his  scholars  along  the  road,  but 
could  see  none  of  them.  He  had  forgotten  also  the 
custom  which  awarded  the  best  seat,  which  was 
always  the  rear  seat,  to  the  first  comer.  In  his  own 
day  he  had  frequently  arrived  at  the  schoolhouse  at 
seven  o'clock  of  the  opening  day  to  discover  that 
there  were  half  a  dozen  boys  ahead  of  him. 

The  children,  trained  finally  by  Mr.  Carpenter 
into  some  respect  for  the  office  of  teacher,  answered 
politely  the  good-morning  with  which  Alvin  had 
been  instructed  to  begin  the  school  day.  They 
sang  with  gusto  the  familiar,  — 

"  O  the  joys  of  childhood, 
Roaming  through  the  wild  wood, 
Running  o'er  the  meadows, 
Happy  and  free,"  — 

a  favorite  for  several  generations,  since  it  gave  full 
opportunity  for  the  use  of  the  human  voice.  Then 
the  children  set  themselves  with  gratifying  diligence 
to  a  study  of  the  lessons  which  Alvin  assigned  them. 


KATY  GAUMER  225 

Alvin  had  notebooks  in  which  were  Outlines  of 
Work  for  Primary  Schools,  Outlines  of  Work  for 
Secondary  Schools,  Outlines  of  Work  for  Ungraded 
Schools,  and  the  like.  Here  also  were  plans  for 
Nature  Work  and  Number  Work,  and  various  other 
kinds  of  Works  whose  names  at  least  were  new  in 
the  curriculum  of  the  Millerstown  school.  The  chil 
dren  took  kindly  enough  to  them  all;  they  went 
quietly  about  their  tasks.  The  discipline  of  school 
was  pleasant.  The  older  girls  smiled  at  Alvin  and 
blushed  when  he  spoke. 

To  Sarah  Ann,  Alvin  imparted  daily  fresh  plans 
made  by  him  and  his  Bessie  for  the  furnishing  of 
their  house. 

1  'We  have  changed  to  mahogany  for  the  dining- 
room.  Oak  is  not  fashionable  any  more.  People  are 
getting  rid  of  their  oak."  In  these  statements 
Alvin  quoted  from  the  clerk  in  a  furniture  store  who 
had  showed  to  him  and  Bessie  a  new  mahogany 
set  of  dining-room  furniture.  "We  have  picked  out 
our  things  already. " 

Sarah  Ann  did  not  know  much  about  the  various 
kinds  of  wood,  but  mahogany  was  a  longer  word 
than  oak,  and  the  furniture  made  of  that  wood  was 
probably  the  finest  that  could  be  had.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  Sarah  Ann  had  in  her  house  without  know 
ing  it  several  fine  pieces  of  mahogany.  Sarah  Ann 
told  Susannah  about  Alvin's  plans  and  they  spread 
promptly  over  Millerstown. 

"It  is  a  rich  girl,  for  sure,"  said  Millerstown. 


226  KATY  GAUMER 

Once  the  young  lady  herself  appeared  to  inspect 
Alvin 's  house.  Millers  town  saw  the  two  step  from 
the  car  and  appraised  the  furs  and  the  feathered 
hat  as  well  as  they  could,  considering  that  furs 
and  feathers  were  not  in  general  use  in  Millers- 
town  except  upon  the  backs  of  the  creatures  who 
wore  them  naturally.  Millerstown  was  astonished 
and  Millerstown  admired.  Katy  Gaumer,  return 
ing  from  an  hour  spent  with  her  Aunt  Sally,  her 
feathers  a  scarlet  nubia,  her  furs  a  crimson  shawl, 
blushed  first  scarlet  and  then  crimson  as  she  came 
upon  Alvin  and  his  lady,  and  went  on  her  way 
choking  back  something  in  her  throat.  Alvin  took 
his  Bessie  directly  to  Sarah  Ann's  house,  and  Sarah 
Ann,  embarrassed  and  silent,  accompanied  them 
upon  their  tour  of  inspection.  Sarah  Ann  could  not 
explain  exactly  why  she  was  invited. 

41  It  is  something  about  the  fashion,"  she  explained 
to  Susannah.,  "The  young  folks  are  nowadays  not 
to  be  alone." 

Susannah  laughed  a  scornful  laugh. 

"These  must  be  fine  young  folks  nowadays,  if 
they  cannot  be  trusted  fifteen  minutes  to  walk  alone 
through  a  cold  house!" 

Upon  the  strength  of  Alvin's  good  position,  and 
of  Sarah  Ann's  account  of  the  riches  of  the  young 
lady's  father,  and  of  a  dazzling  glimpse  of  the  young 
lady  herself,  Billy  Knerr  trusted  Alvin  for  the 
second  and  the  third  and  the  fourth  month's  rent 
of  his  house,  the  school  board  continued  to  pay 


KATY  GAUMER  227 

Alvin  in  advance,  and  the  coal  dealer  let  him  have 
three  tons  of  coal  on  credit.  An  Allentown  tailor 
made  him  a  new  winter  suit  on  the  same  terms,  and 
Sarah  Ann  let  him  stay  on  without  reminding  him 
of  his  board  bill.  Alvin  hated  to  pay  for  commodities 
which  could  be  eaten,  like  potatoes,  or  which  could 
be  burned  up,  like  coal.  When  the  coal  was  in  the 
cellar,  he  forgot  entirely  that  presently  there  would 
be  a  bill.  Alvin  was  wholly  happy;  there  were 
moments  when  the  contemplation  of  his  good  for-, 
tune  made  him  dizzy. 

On  Sunday  evenings  Alvin  continued  his  attend 
ance  at  the  Millerstown  churches.  He  meant  to 
ally  himself  finally  with  one  of  them,  the  Lutheran, 
probably,  since  the  Weygandts  and  Gaumers  and 
Fackenthals  were  Lutheran.  He  still  visited,  how 
ever,  the  church  of  the  Improved  New  Mennonites 
where  Essie  Hill  blushed  deeply  under  her  plain  hat 
as  he  approached.  There  was  a  new  legend  upon 
Essie's  hat.  Instead  of  being  a  worker  in  the  vine 
yard,  she  was  now  a  soldier  in  the  kingdom.  David 
Hartman  still  sat  occasionally  with  her  upon  her 
doorstep.  Again  her  father  spoke  to  her  about 
him. 

"You  can't  marry  anybody  outside  the  church, 
Essie." 

"No,  pop." 

Into  the  Reverend  Mr.  Hill's  somber  eyes  there 
came  for  an  instant  a  hopeful  gleam. 

"Perhaps  we  could  get  him  in  the  church?" 


228  KATY  GAUMER 

"Perhaps,"  agreed  Essie.  "I  talk  to  him  some 
times." 

It  was  in  December  when  Fate  turned  against 
Alvin.  Alvin  had  now  burned  his  supply  of  coal  and 
was  angrily  refused  more.  Alvin's  Allentown  tailor, 
failing  to  receive  replies  to  his  letter,  sent  a  collector 
to  interview  Alvin,  an  insistent  person  who,  failing 
to  find  him  at  home,  visited  him  at  the  schoolhouse. 
Even  Sarah  Ann,  who  was  patience  personified, 
reminded  her  boarder  gently  that  she  had  fed  him 
for  four  months  without  any  return. 

"  I  did  it  to  earn  a  little  extra  missionary  money, 
Alvin,"  explained  Sarah  Ann.  "We  have  at  this 
time  of  the  year  always  a  Thank  Offering.  I  thought 
I  would  earn  this  to  put  in  my  box." 

In  December,  the  spirit  of  evil  entered  the 
Millerstown  school.  The  familiar  sound  of  twanging 
wires,  of  slamming  desk  lids,  the  soft  slap  of  mois 
tened  paper  balls  striking  the  blackboards,  were  the 
first  warnings  of  the  rise  of  rebellion.  The  Millers- 
town  children  had  not  enough  to  do.  Their  teacher 
had  reached  the  end  of  his  outlines  and  knew  not 
how  to  make  more.  He  was  desperately  tired  of 
teaching ;  he  could  not  understand  how  he  could  ever 
have  supposed  that  Mr.  Carpenter  had  an  easy  or 
a  pleasant  time. 

One  morning  when  he  entered  the  schoolroom,  he 
found  the  blackboard  decorated  with  a  caricature 
of  himself,  labeled  with  the  insulting  appellation 
which  Susannah  Kuhns  had  once  bestowed  upon 


KATY  GAUMER  229 

him,  "Der  Fratzhans."  There  were  only  two  pupils 
who  were  skillful  enough  to  have  drawn  so  lifelike 
a  representation  of  their  teacher;  they  were  two  of 
the  four  large  girls  in  the  upper  class,  of  whose 
admiration  Alvin  had  been  certain.  It  was  a  cruel 
blow  for  poor  Alvin. 

Again  the  collector  who  represented  the  tailor 
visited  him.  This  time  he  met  Alvin  on  Main  Street, 
in  front  of  the  post-office,  and  at  the  top  of  his  loud 
and  unfeeling  voice,  demanded  instant  payment. 

"I  will  get  it,"  promised  Alvin.  "Till  Monday  I 
will  have  it  for  sure." 

It  must  be  said  in  justice  to  Alvin  that  he  did  not 
think  at  once  of  making  application  to  Katy  Gaumer 
for  succor  in  his  financial  situation.  To  his  Bessie  he 
offered  no  such  slight  as  that.  But  succor  Alvin 
must  have.  He  knew  so  little  about  the  law  that  he 
feared  he  might  be  cast  into  prison.  When  he  had 
got  rid  of  the  insulting  creature  and  his  demands, 
he  dressed  himself  in  the  suit  under  discussion  and  at 
once  sought  Bessie  at  her  father's  house  in  the  county 
seat. 

There,  alas!  Alvin  did  not  behave  in  a  manner 
befitting  one  whose  education  and  manners  were  so 
fine.  He  asked  Bessie  plainly  and  frankly  for  a  loan, 
having  been  led  by  Miss  Katy  Gaumer  to  expect 
an  immediate  and  favorable  response  from  any 
female  whom  he  honored  with  such  a  request.  To 
his  astonishment  Bessie  stared  at  him  rudely. 

"Why  do  you  want  money?" 


23o  KATY  GAUMER 

"To  pay  a  few  things." 

"Don't  you  have  any  money?" 

"It  isn't  time  yet  for  my  salary."  In  reality 
Alvin  had  been  paid  as  at  first,  in  advance. 

"Don't  you  have  any  money  in  the  bank?" 

"Why,  no ! "  It  had  never  occurred  to  Alvin  to  do 
anything  with  money  but  spend  it. 

"Have  you  paid  for  the  furniture?" 

"The  furniture?"  repeated  Alvin  weakly. 

"Yes,  the  furniture."  Bessie  was  growing  redder 
and  redder,  her  voice  sharper.  "The  furniture  that 
you  and  I  picked  out  this  long  while!" 

"Why,  no,"  confessed  Alvin,  "  I  thought  that  you 
—  that  you  would  —  would  — " 

"  You  thought  I  would  pay  for  it ! "  Bessie's  voice 
rose  so  high  that  her  whole  family  might  have  heard 
if  they  had  not  considerately  left  the  house  to 
her  and  her  beau.  "Well,  you  were  mistaken!" — • 
Bessie  was  a  slangy  person,  she  said  that  Alvin  was 
"stung."  "And  here" — Bessie  ran  upstairs  and 
returned  with  a  letter  —  "here  is  this.  I  thought,  of 
course,  this  was  a  mistake.  I  paid  no  attention  to  it. 
Open  it!" 

Alvin  grew  pale.  He  recognized,  before  the  enve 
lope  was  in  his  hand,  the  business  card  on  the  corner. 
The  bill  for  Bessie's  ring  had  come  to  him  many 
times.  Now  upon  the  bill  Bessie  laid  the  ring  itself. 

"There! "said  she. 

Alvin  remembered  suddenly  how  David  Hartman 
had  appeared  on  the  mountain  long  ago  and  had 


KATY  GAUMER  231 

hurled  himself  upon  him.  He  had  now  much  the 
same  sensations. 

"Do  you  mean  that  it  is  over?"  he  faltered  in  a 
dazed  tone. 

"Yes,"  answered  Bessie  in  a  very  firm,  decided 
tone;  "I  mean  just  that." 

After  Alvin  had  carried  the  ring  back  to  the 
jeweler,  a  way  suggested  itself  of  paying  the  tailor. 
He  returned  his  beautiful  best  winter  suit,  worn  but 
a  very  few  times,  and  received  some  credit  on  his 
bill.  The  balance,  alas!  remained,  and  the  tailor 
seemed  but  slightly  mollified  by  his  humility.  The 
coal  bill  remained  also,  but  the  coal  had  been  burned 
and  could  not  be  restored  to  £he  dealer.  The  land 
lord  had  also  been  deprived  of  the  rent  for  his  house, 
the  food  had  been  eaten.  What  Alvin  should  do 
about  the  landlord  and  about  Sarah  Ann  he  did  not 
know.  Alvin  had  a  sad  Christmas. 

January  and  February  passed  slowly.  Alvin  was 
still  too  proud  to  confess  to  Millerstown  that  Bessie 
had  jilted  him;  he  paid  a  little  on  his  great  rent  bill 
as  means  of  staving  off  the  discovery  a  little  longer. 
The  children  in  school  became  entirely  ungovern 
able,  their  invention  more  brilliant  and  demoniacal. 
The  stovepipe  fell  with  a  crash  to  the  floor,  the 
flying  soot  blackening  the  faces  of  teacher  and 
pupils  alike.  Alvin  found  his  overshoes  filled  with 
powdered  chalk  and  damp  sponges;  he  met  fresh 
pictures  of  himself  when  he  opened  the  door.  When 
he  undertook  in  midwinter  to  raise  a  mustache  there 


232  KATY  GAUMER 

appeared  promptly  upon  the  upper  lip  of  most  of  his 
pupils  a  dark  and  suggestive  line.  The  children 
grew  more  impertinent,  the  bills  more  pressing.  In 
despair  Alvin  climbed  the  hill  and  ransacked  the 
little  house  where  he  had  lived  with  his  father.  He 
thought  bitterly  of  William,  who  had  squandered 
his  money  on  madness,  and  who  had  given  his  son 
so  unpleasant  a  life. 

He  found  nothing  in  the  little  house.  As  he  shut 
the  door  behind  him,  he  remembered  how  John 
Hartman  had  sat  dead  in  his  buggy  before  the  gate 
as  he  and  Katy  came  down  the  mountain  road. 

At  once  a  warm  glow  flooded  the  soul  of  Alvin. 
How  comforting  had  been  the  touch  of  Katy  on 
that  frightful  day,  how  brave  she  had  been!  How 
kind  Katy  had  been  to  him  always,  how  freely  she 
had  granted  all  he  asked !  And  now  Katy  was  rich, 
she  had  doubtless  inherited  a  good  deal  of  money 
from  her  grandmother,  and  she  was  earning  dear 
knows  what  liberal  salary  at  the  rich  Hartmans'. 
She  had  come  to  take  a  sensible  view  of  education ; 
she  had  decided,  Alvin  was  certain,  that  it  counted 
for  nothing.  To  Katy  his  heart  warmed.  He  re 
membered  her  with  tears. 

At  once  Alvin  hastened  back  to  his  little  house, 
and  there,  sitting  straightway  down  at  his  table, 
indited  a  letter.  Composition  was  easy ;  he  had  long 
ago  written  a  model. 

"DEAR,  DEAR  KATY,  —  I  am  in  great  trouble.  I 
need  a  little  money.  If  you  have  any,  Katy,  say 


KATY  GAUMER  233 

about  $25,  put  it  in  the  hole  in  the  wall.  Katy,  say 
you  will."  Then  Alvin  added  a  postscript.  "I  am 
not  going  to  marry,  Katy.  I  have  broken  it  all  off.'1 

But  Alvin  did  not  present  his  letter.  Instead,  he 
held  it  until  he  should  have  made  trial  of  another 
expedient.  Perhaps  some  fragment  of  Katy's  earlier 
largess  still  remained  in  the  putlock  hole ! 

That  evening  Alvin  attended  service  at  the 
church  of  the  Improved  New  Mennonites.  He  was 
so  unhappy  that  he  dared  not  be  alone,  and  in  the 
church  of  the  Improved  New  Mennonites  he  would 
meet  none  of  his  creditors,  all  of  whom  belonged  to 
the  larger,  longer  established  churches.  Here,  too, 
Essie  smiled  at  him.  Essie  was  a  comfortable  per 
son;  she  was  neither  ambitious  for  learning  nor 
scornful  of  those  who  had  no  money.  The  preacher 
exhorted  his  congregation  to  make  a  fresh  start; 
this  Alvin  determined  to  do. 

On  the  way  home  he  made  a  d6tour  through  the 
open  fields  until  he  reached  the  back  of  the  Gaumer 
garden.  Through  the  garden  he  crept  softly.  The 
night  was  dark,  the  wind  whistled  mournfully 
through  the  doors  of  the  Gaumer  barn.  Alvin 
slipped  and  fell  when  his  foot  sank  into  the  burrow 
of  a  mole.  But  Alvin  pressed  on. 

When  he  put  his  hand  into  the  putlock  hole  and 
his  fingers  touched  the  hard  stone,  he  could  have 
sunk  to  the  ground  with  disappointment.  Again  he 
thrust  in  his  hand  and  could  find  nothing.  A  third 
time  he  tried,  pushing  his  cuff  back  on  his  arm  so  as 


234  KATY  GAUMER 

to  insert  his  hand  as  far  as  possible.  A  fourth  time 
he  reached  in  vain.  In  the  old  days  when  Katy  had 
laid  there  for  him  the  fat  bills,  they  had  always 
been  within  easy  reach.  Finally,  in  the  last  gasp  of 
hope,  he  took  from  his  pocket  a  long  lead  pencil  and 
felt  about  with  its  tip.  The  broad  stone  which 
formed  the  floor  of  the  putlock  hole  sloped;  there, 
in  the  little  pit  at  the  back,  Alvin's  pencil  touched 
an  object  which  he  could  move  about. 

After  much  prying  he  drew  it  forth,  a  round  half- 
dollar,  a  part  of  the  last  wages  which  Katy  had 
received  from  Mrs.  Hartman. 

He  held  it  in  his  hand  and  tried  desperately  to 
reach  its  fellows.  Surely  the  Fates  would  not  mock 
him  with  a  half-dollar  when  his  needs  were  so  great ! 
To-morrow  evening  he  would  bring  a  bent  wire  and 
see  what  he  could  do  with  that. 

With  the  blessed  coin  in  his  hand,  Alvin  turned 
his  steps  homeward. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BEVY  PUTS  A  HEX  ON  ALVIN 

AFTER  Katy  had  cleaned  the  Hartman  attic,  she 
cleaned  one  by  one  the  Hartman  bedrooms.  Cup 
boards  and  closets  were  emptied  of  their  contents; 
clothes,  blankets,  great,  thick  comforts  were  carried 
to  the  yard  and  there  were  beaten  and  aired  and 
restored  to  their  places.  Carpets  were  taken  up  to 
be  put  through  the  same  process  and  then  were 
nailed  down  once  more  to  the  floor,  with  mighty 
stretching  of  arms  and  pulling  of  fingers.  Floors 
were  scrubbed,  paint  was  wiped,  windows  were 
polished ;  even  the  outside  of  the  house  was  washed, 
the  walls  being  approached  by  a  leaning  down  from 
the  upper  windows,  long-handled  brush  well  in 
hand,  and  a  stretching  up  from  the  lower  windows. 
Any  well- trained  Pennsylvania  German  housewife  is 
amply  able  to  superintend  the  putting  in  order  of  an 
operating-room  in  a  hospital. 

Mrs.  Hartman  superintended  the  cleaning,  though 
she  was  able  to  take  no  part.  She  lay  day  after  day 
on  the  old  settle  in  the  kitchen  and  was  helped  night 
after  night  to  her  bed.  She  did  not  like  to  be  helped ; 
if  she  could  make  the  journey  herself  while  Katy 
was  for  a  moment  busy  elsewhere,  or  when  Katy 
had  run  down  to  sit  for  a  few  minutes  with  her  Aunt 


236  KATY  GAUMER 

Sally,  she  was  well  pleased.  As  the  hoard  in  Katy's 
bank  grew,  Katy's  heart  became  lighter,  her  tongue 
moved  with  some  of  its  old  gayety.  But  Cassie 
made  no  answer;  she  said  nothing,  indeed,  from 
day's  beginning  to  day's  end,  except  to  give  Katy 
directions  about  her  work.  Dr.  Benner  came  occa 
sionally  to  see  her,  rather  as  one  who  watches  the 
progress  of  an  incurable  disease  than  as  one  who 
hopes  to  stay  its  course.  The  Lutheran  preacher 
visited  her  and  was  received  with  all  appropriate 
ceremony.  Then,  according  to  the  old  German  cus 
tom,  all  work  ceased  and  the  family  waited  upon  its 
guest.  In  nothing  outside  her  house  was  Cassie 
interested.  It  seemed  that  for  Cassie  the  springs  of 
life  had  at  last  run  dry. 

When  her  day's  work  was  done,  Katy  went  to  her 
room  and  read  half  the  night  away.  David  had 
brought  home  the  sets  of  standard  works  in  beauti 
ful  bindings  which  he  had  bought  from  agents  who 
visited  the  college;  and  now  into  the  stories  of  Scott 
and  Dickens  and  Thackeray,  stored  by  Cassie's  com 
mand  in  David's  cupboard,  Katy  plunged  as  a  diver 
plunges  into  a  stream.  The  books  had  not  been 
packed  away  in  any  order  of  author  or  subject; 
upon  them  Katy  seized  as  they  came  to  hand.  When 
she  could  not  understand  what  she  read  —  and 
there  were  many  poems  and  essays  at  which  Katy 
blinked  without  comprehension  —  she  cried,  think 
ing  with  bitter  regret  and  heartache  that  now  she 
might  have  been  in  school. 


KATY  GAUMER  237 

"And  I  am  a  servant  girl!"  sighed  Katy.  "It  is 
no  shame  to  be  a  servant  girl,  but  it  is  a  black  shame 
forme!" 

Daily  she  made  mental  reckoning  of  the  silver 
dollars  and  half-dollars  accumulating  in  the  putlock 
hole. 

"But  there  are  the  two  hundred  dollars!"  she 
cried.  "What  shall  I  say  to  them  about  the  two 
hundred  dollars!  Perhaps  when  I  have  paid  the 
squire  his  fifty  dollars,  I  could  tell  him  that  the  two 
hundred  dollars  was  gone  and  he  could  get  uncle  to 
give  me  some  of  my  money.  Perhaps  I  can  sing 
again ! "  The  pictures  of  foreign  places  in  a  beautiful 
book  of  David's  made  her  heart  throb.  "Once  I 
thought  I  could  see  all  such  places!" 

Then  Katy  hid  her  face  in  her  hands  and  David's 
beautiful  book  slid  from  her  lap  to  the  floor. 

At  Christmas  time  David  Hartman  came  home. 
He  had  attained  his  full  height;  his  gray  eyes  looked 
clearly  into  the  eyes  of  those  who  spoke  to  him.  He 
stood  at  the  head  of  his  class;  he  had  gained  confi 
dence  in  himself.  He  had  asked  his  mother  for  a 
larger  allowance  and  had  received  it  promptly.  It 
amused  him  to  flaunt  his  money  in  the  eyes  of  the 
college,  to  spend  large  sums  as  though  they  were 
nothing.  He  brought  his  mother  handsome  presents, 
and  his  mother  had  handsome  presents  for  him.  It 
seemed  as  though  he  and  she  finally  understood 
each  other.  Of  resting  his  head  on  any  one's  shoul 
der,  David  thought  no  more;  into  his  throat  came 


238  KATY  GAUMER 

no  choking  sensations  as  of  old.  At  Millerstown's 
pronunciations  and  Millerstown's  customs  David 
laughed.  When  it  was  necessary  for  Katy  to  be  with 
him,  she  recounted  to  him  the  Millerstown  news  and 
David  listened  politely.  Presently  it  seemed  to 
Katy  that  he  was  laughing  at  her;  then  she  said  no 
more.  It  was  not  necessary  for  them  to  have  much 
speech  together;  Katy  went  down  to  her  Aunt 
Sally's  to  sleep  while  David  was  at  home,  leaving 
the  Hartman  house  soon  after  supper.  During 
the  day  she  did  not  see  him  except  in  his  mother's 
presence. 

"I  have  read  some  of  your  books,"  she  told  him 
one  afternoon  when  she  sat  at  the  window  sewing 
and  he  sat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  kitchen  with  a 
book,  and  Cassie  lay  asleep  on  the  settle  between 
them. 

"That  is  right,"  said  David.  "I  hope  you  have 
enjoyed  them." 

"  I  did."  Katy  laid  down  her  sewing.  If  she  could 
talk  about  these  books  with  David!  " I  read  first  of 
all  Wanity  — "  oh,  terrible  slip  of  a  tongue  which 
knew  better!  "I  mean  Vanity  Fair!" 

A  flash  came  into  David's  eyes,  a  flash  of  bitter 
reminiscence.  To  Katy  it  was  a  flash  of  amusement. 

"Vanity  Fair  is  a  fine  book,"  said  David.  But 
David's  tongue  betrayed  him  again.  David,  too, 
said  "Wanity."  To  Katy  the  tone  was  mocking. 

Katy  said  no  more.  Katy  went  to  visit  her  Aunt 
Sally  even  in  the  afternoons. 


KATY  GAUMER  239 

'"I  am  brutish  as  the  ox  and  the  ass,'"  quoted 
Katy. 

When  the  preacher  came  to  see  David  she  could 
not  slip  away,  though  she  tried  hard.  She  had  to 
listen  to  the  two  discussing  David's  work.  She  was 
even  unfamiliar  with  the  names  of  some  of  his  studies. 

David,  to  the  awe  and  envy  of  his  college  mates, 
had  for  some  time  kept  a  riding-horse.  He  rode 
while  he  was  at  home  on  a  young  horse  of  the 
Weygandts*  which  Jimmie  had  trained  to  the 
saddle.  Millerstown  watched  him  with  admiration 
as  he  galloped  along  the  village  streets  in  curious 
riding-clothes;  the  squire  shook  his  head  over  him. 
The  squire  was  Cassie's  adviser;  he  knew  the  extent 
of  the  fortune  which  David  was  to  inherit;  he  was 
well  acquainted  also  with  the  curious  mental  inherit 
ance  which  was  David's.  He  could  not  get  on  with 
David,  who  was  as  taciturn  as  his  parents. 

David  rode  about  to  all  his  mother's  farms  and 
orchards  and  to  the  fine  woodland  on  the  mountain 
with  its  precious  soil.  Many  persons  were  dependent 
upon  the  Hartman  estate  for  their  livelihood,  more 
would  be  dependent  when  the  mines  could  be  opened 
again.  There  came  into  David's  mind  as  he  rode 
homeward  a  dim  vision  like  the  vision  his  father  had 
seen  of  a  happy  community  of  which  he  should  be 
the  head.  But  David  did  not  try  to  make  his  vision 
clear  to  himself.  He  was  passing  the  poorhouse  and 
his  thoughts  turned  to  the  Koehler  family.  Alvin 
he  hated ;  with  Alvin  he  still  owed  the  settlement  of  a 


24o  KATY  GAUMER 

debt,  even  though  Katy  Gaumer  seemed  to  think 
of  him  no  more.  William  Koehler  himself  had  been 
punished ;  he  was  praying  and  gibbering  somewhere 
behind  the  walls  of  the  poorhouse.  David  thought 
of  his  father,  and  the  rage  of  his  youth  against  the 
Koehlers  swelled  his  heart  again  almost  to  bursting. 
Without  exception  he  hated  Millerstown. 

Nevertheless,  David  went  once  or  twice  to  see  the 
little  Improved  New  Mennonite,  a  proceeding  which 
amazed  and  disgusted  Millerstown.  Susannah  Kuhns 
expressed  to  Katy  Millerstown's  opinion  that  that 
connection  would  "give  a  match";  then  she  re 
counted  to  Katy  at  great  length  the  ambitious  plans 
of  Alvin  and  his  bride. 

When  David  returned  to  school,  Katy  went  back 
to  her  room  in  the  Hartman  house.  Christmas  had 
been  dreary  with  its  memories  and  its  contrasts 
with  the  past;  Katy  was  not  sorry  to  have  again 
constant  occupation  for  her  mind  and  her  hands. 
She  straightened  out  the  slight  disorder  caused  by 
the  presence  of  David;  she  got  the  meals  as  usual; 
she  exchanged  a  few  words  with  the  invalid;  and 
when  the  quiet  of  night  had  settled  upon  the  house, 
she  lit  the  lamp  in  her  room  and  opened  the  beauti 
ful  illustrated  book  at  the  page  upon  which  she  had 
closed  it.  But  Katy  did  not  proceed  with  the 
account  of  the  Coliseum.  Katy  closed  the  book, 
and  drawing  her  scarlet  shawl  a  little  closer  about 
her  shoulders,  laid  her  cheek  down  on  the  bureau. 
Katy  was  again  obsessed.  She  saw  David's  clear 


KATY  GAUMER  241 

gray  eyes,  looking  at  her  In  astonishment  as  she 
applied  for  a  servant's  place  in  his  mother's  house. 
She  heard  his  speech,  so  unlike  her  own;  he  seemed 
to  stand  close  beside  her.  She  saw  again  that  flicker 
of  amusement  in  his  eyes,  heard  again  that  uncon 
scious  mockery.  David  was  a  part  of  the  great  world 
into  which  she  had  expected  to  fare  forth.  David 
was  English.  David  was  as  far  above  her  as  the  stars. 

"He  wasn't  in  the  beginning!"  cried  Katy.  "I 
have  made  myself  what  I  am.  I  am  mean  and  low 
and  ignorant." 

Then  Katy  rose  from  her  chair  and  clasped  her 
hands  across  her  heart. 

"Am  I  to  have  this  again?"  cried  Katy.  " Alvin  is 
only  just  out  of  my  mind.  What  am  I  to  do?  What 
am  I  to  do?  What  am  I  made  of  ?  I  am  worse  than 
Mary  Wolle  and  Sally  Hersh.  If  I  cannot  have  one 
in  my  mind  to  worry  me,  then  I  must  have  another. 
Am  I  to  have  no  peace  in  this  world?" 

Katy  looked  about  the  little  room  with  its  narrow 
bed,  its  little  bureau,  its  single  chair,  its  cupboard 
crowded  with  books.  Katy  remembered  that  this 
was  David's  room,  that  here  he  slept,  had  slept  only 
last  night.  Katy  knelt  down  by  the  bed  and  began 
to  pray,  not  for  David,  but  for  herself. 

By  morning  Katy  had  made  a  firm  resolution. 

"  I  will  think  only  of  this  money.  I  have  twenty- 
four  dollars  saved.  In  four  months  I  will  be  free  of 
my  debt." 

January,  February,  and  March  saw  poor  Cassie 


242  KATY  GAUMER 

growing  weaker  and  more  silent,  saw  Katy's  hoard 
swelling. 

41  It  is  thirty  dollars ! "  said  she.  "  Now  it  is  thirty- 
six  dollars!"  "Now  it  is  forty-two  dollars!"  Fre 
quently  Katy  thanked  God.  A  little  lighter  grew 
her  heart. 

One  evening  in  March  a  sudden  uneasiness  over 
whelmed  her. 

"  I  will  go  down  and  count  it,"  said  she.  "  Perhaps 
I  should  put  it  in  a  safer  place."  But  no  one  knows 
that  the  hole  is  there  but  a  few  people,  and  no  one 
could  get  a  hand  into  the  bottom  but  me." 

It  was  not  Saturday;  Katy  had  no  sum  to  add  to 
the  deposit;  but  she  wrapped  her  shawl  about  her 
and  went  down  to  the  Gaumer  house.  There, 
laughing  at  herself  for  her  uneasiness,  she  rolled 
back  her  sleeve  and  thrust  her  arm  deep  into  her 
hiding-place.  Then  she  stood  perfectly  still  and 
with  a  moan  began  to  feel  about.  The  little  pit  had 
no  outlet ;  it  was  still  safe  and  dry,  a  capital  hiding- 
place,  provided  one  kept  its  existence  to  one's  self, 
but  it  was  empty. 

At  first  Katy  could  not  believe  the  evidence  of  her 
senses.  Frantically  she  thrust  in  her  hand,  reluc 
tantly  she  drew  it  out  and  felt  of  it  with  the  other 
hand  and  even  laid  it  along  her  cheek.  It  was  not 
until  she  had  repeated  this  process  several  times 
that  she  was  able  to  appreciate  the  truth.  The  put- 
lock  hole  was  empty,  her  hard-earned  hoard  was 
gone,  freedom  from  debt  cruelly  postponed. 


KATY  GAUMER  243 

Then  Katy,  who  had  so  bravely  hidden  her  vari 
ous  troubles  from  Millerstown  and  from  her  kin, 
began  to  cry  like  a  crazy  person.  She  struck  at 
the  hard  stone  wall  until  her  hands  bled ;  she  ran, 
crying  and  sobbing,  to  her  Uncle  Edwin's  door, 
and  burst  it  open,  frightening  him  and  Aunt  Sally 
nearly  out  of  their  wits  as  they  sat  by  the  kitchen 
table. 

"My  money  is  gone!"  she  cried,  seizing  Uncle 
Edwin  by  the  arm.  "I  tell  you  my  money  is  gone! 
It  is  stolen!  It  is  not  there!  Somebody  has  run 
away  with  it!" 

"  Your  money!"  gasped  Uncle  Edwin,  struggling 
to  his  feet.  "What  money?  Where  had  you  money, 
Katy?  Who  stole  it?  In  Heaven's  name,  Katy, 
what  is  wrong?" 

Katy  sank  down  on  the  old  settle  and  stared  at 
them  wildly. 

"I  had  money  in  the  hole  in  the  wall." 

"What  hole  in  the  wall,  Katy?" 

"Right  here  in  this  wall,  where  Bevy  put  cakes 
for  me  when  I  was  little  and  lived  with  my  gran'pop. 
I  had  all  my  money  that  I  ever  earned  there  —  it 
was  forty-two  dollars.  Cassie  would  tell  you  that 
she  gave  me  forty-two  dollars  already,  or  you  could 
count  it  up  by  weeks.  On  Saturday  evening  it  was 
there,  and  now  it  is  gone.  Oh,  what  shall  I  do,  what 
shall  I  do?" 

Katy  began  to  wring  her  hands;  Aunt  Sally  be 
sought  her,  weeping,  to  lie  down;  Uncle  Edwin 


244  KATY  GAUMER 

reached  to  the  high  mantel-shelf  where  he  had  laid 
his  gun  out  of  little  Adam's  reach. 

"There  is  no  one  there  now!"  cried  Katy.  "It  is 
no  use  to  go  now !  I  can  reach  to  the  bottom  of  the 
hole  and  there  is  not  a  penny  there."  She  began  to 
repeat  what  she  had  said.  "My  money  is  gone!  My 
money  is  gone!"  William  Koehler  when  he  was 
accused  of  stealing  the  communion  service  had 
behaved  no  more  crazily. 

"I  will  go  for  the  squire,"  said  Uncle  Edwin, 
moving  toward  the  door,  gun  in  hand.  "That  is  the 
first  thing  to  do." 

Then  Uncle  Edwin  paused.  From  without  rose 
a  fearful  uproar.  There  were  loud  cries  in  a  man's 
voice,  there  were  shrill  reproaches  and  commands 
in  a  woman's.  There  were  even  squeals.  Aunt  Sally 
added  her  screams  to  those  which  proceeded  from 
without.  Uncle  Edwin  advanced  boldly,  his  empty 
gun  lifted  to  his  shoulder. 

"It  is  Bevy!"  cried  Aunt  Sally.  "Some  one  has 
Bevy!" 

Bravely  Aunt  Sally  followed  Uncle  Edwin ;  weep 
ing  Katy  followed  Aunt  Sally.  At  the  corner  of  the 
house  they  paused  in  unspeakable  amazement. 

The  squire  had  opened  his  door;  from  it  a  broad 
shaft  of  light  shot  out  across  the  lawn  which  sepa 
rated  the  two  houses.  It  illuminated  brightly  the 
opening  of  the  putlock  hole  and  its  vicinity.  There 
an  extraordinary  tableau  presented  itself  to  the 
eyes  of  Katy  Gaumer  and  her  kin.  The  center  of 


KATY  GAUMER  245 

the  stage  was  occupied  by  Bevy  and  a  struggling 
man.  Over  his  head  Bevy  had  thrown  her  gingham 
apron;  she  twisted  it  now  tightly  like  a  tourniquet 
and  screamed  for  help. 

"Thief!  Thief! "shouted  Bevy. 

"My  ear!  My  ear!"  cried  a  muffled  voice  from 
beneath  the  apron,  a  voice  recognized  immediately 
by  one  at  least  of  the  astonished  spectators. 

"I  do  not  care  for  your  ear,"  screamed  Bevy. 
"Your  ear  is  nothing  to  me.  You  were  stealing! 
What  is  it  that  you  have  stolen?" 

Wildly  Alvin  tried  to  free  himself;  frantically 
Bevy  clung  to  him.  Bevy  now  found  an  ally  in 
Uncle  Edwin,  who  seized  the  prisoner  in  a  firm  grasp. 

"Whoa,  there ! "  cried  Uncle  Edwin.  "  I  have  him, 
Bevy.  I  have  him  by  the  arm.  You  can  let  him 
go." 

There  was  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  of 
opening  doors,  there  were  questions  and  outcries. 

"What  is  it?" 

"I  heard  some  one  yelling." 

"Shall  I  bring  a  gun?" 

"It  was  a  pig  that  squealed!" 

"What  is  wrong  with  everybody?" 

The  squire  came  flying  across  the  lawn.  He  saw 
as  he  opened  the  door  the  struggling  Alvin  and  the 
excited  Bevy  and  Edwin  Gaumer  armed  here  on 
this  peaceful  night  with  a  gun.  He  saw  also  his 
grandniece  with  her  flaming  cheeks,  her  swollen 
eyes,  her  disheveled  hair.  The  squire  did  not  know 


246  KATY  GAUMER 

what  had  happened,  but  he  closed  his  door  behind 
him  so  that  the  scene  should  be  no  longer  illumi 
nated. 

"  Nothing  is  wrong,"  he  declared  sternly.  "  No 
body  shall  bring  a  gun." 

With  a  gesture  he  ordered  his  kinsfolk  and  Bevy 
and  her  prey  into  his  office;  with  an  arm  thrown 
across  her  shoulders  he  protected  his  niece  from 
further  observation.  Then,  cruelly,  upon  Millers- 
town  he  shut  his  office  door.  For  a  while  Millers- 
town  hung  about;  then  having  recognized  no  one 
but  the  squire,  and  neither  able  to  see  nor  to  hear 
further,  departed  for  their  several  homes. 
k,  Inside  the  squire  locked  the  door  and  motioned 
his  excited  guests  to  seats.  If  Katy  had  had  her 
way  she  would  have  died  on  the  spot,  she  would 
have  sunk  into  the  earth  and  would  have  been 
swallowed  up.  But  with  the  squire's  arm  about  her 
she  could  do  nothing  but  proceed  to  his  office  with 
the  rest. 

The  squire  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  from 
Edwin  with  his  gun  to  Aunt  Sally  with  her  round 
and  staring  eyes;  from  Bevy  to  Alvin,  who  smoothed 
his  hair  and  laid  a  protecting  hand  over  his  suffering 
ear. 

"What  on  earth  is  the  matter  with  you  people?" 
he  demanded.  "Has  war  broken  out  in  Millerstown?  " 

At  once  began  an  indescribable  clamor. 

"I  was  going  over  to  Sally  a  little  — "  this  was 
Bevy.  "I  saw  him."  Bevy  indicated  her  prisoner 


KATY  GAUMER  24? 

with  a  contemptuous  gesture.  "He  was  digging  in 
the  hole,  and  I — " 

''You  didn't!"  contradicted  Alvin.  "You  did 
n't!" 

"  What  hole?"  asked  the  squire. 

"Do  you  dare  to  say  I  did  n't  take  you  by  the 
ear?"  cried  Bevy  with  threatening  fingers  lifted 
toward  that  aching  member. 

"The  hole  where  Katy  had  her  money,"  explained 
Edwin. 

"It  was  stolen,"  cried  Aunt  Sally. 

"I  did  n't!"  protested  Alvin  again,  his  face  green 
with  fright.  He  blamed  his  own  greediness  for  the 
discovery.  On  Sunday  evening  he  had  taken  all 
Katy's  hoard ;  why  had  he  been  so  mad  as  to  return 
to  seek  more? 

"A  mule  is  a  mule,"  proclaimed  Bevy  Schnepp. 
"A  Koehler  is  a  Koehler.  They  steal;  you  cannot 
better  them  by  education ;  they  are  all  the  time  the 
same,  they- — " 

"Be  still,  Bevy!"  commanded  the  squire. 

But  Bevy  would  not  be  still.  She  gave  another 
scream  and  began  to  dance  up  and  down  in  her  grass 
hopper-like  fashion. 

"  Look  at  him,  once !  He  says  he  did  n't,  does  he? 
Look  once  what  he  has  in  his  hand! " 

At  once  all  eyes  turned  with  closer  scrutiny  upon 
Alvin.  He  still  held  in  his  hand  the  implement  with 
which  he  had  coaxed  Katy's  dollars  and  half- 
dollars  from  the  depths  of  the  putlock  hole.  It  was 


248  KATY  GAUMER 

only  a  bit  of  twisted  wire,  but  it  had  done  its  work 
well. 

"Like  father,  like  son!"  screamed  Bevy  again. 
"What  did  I  say?  Where  did  he  get  the  money  to 
get  educated?  Where  —  " 

"Bevy,  be  still!"  commanded  the  squire  in  a 
sterner  tone.  "Katy,  did  you  keep  your  money  in 
the  putlock  hole?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Katy  in  a  low  voice.  Here,  face 
to  face  with  Alvin,  she  remembered  all  the  past,  her 
long  vigils  on  the  porch  when  she  watched  for  him, 
his  kiss  in  the  shadow,  his  later,  different  kisses,  his 
ingratitude,  her  shame.  Katy's  head  sank  lower 
and  lower  on  her  breast. 

"Why  did  you  select  such  a  place  for  a  bank, 
Katy?" 

"I  used  to  keep  things  there  when  I  was  a  little 
girl.  Into  the  deep  part  nobody  could  put  a  hand 
but  me.  That  is  why  I  thought  it  was  safe." 

The  squire  looked  more  and  more  angry.  His 
voice  sank  deeper  and  deeper  in  his  throat. 

"You  did  n't  count  on  bent  wire,  did  you?  How 
much  money  did  you  have  there,  Katy?" 

Katy  answered  so  faintly  that  the  squire  could 
not  hear. 

"She  said  forty-two  dollars,"  answered  Uncle 
Edwin  for  her.  Uncle  Edwin  had  now  stationed 
himself  behind  Alvin;  at  Alvin's  slightest  motion 
he  put  forth  a  hand  to  seize  him.  The  Gaumers  had 
not  been  able  to  defend  their  kinswoman  from  her 


KATY  GAUMER  249 

own  incomprehensible  foolishness,  but  from  such 
bold  assault  from  without  they  were  amply  able  to 
protect  her. 

"Is  this  so,  Katy?"  asked  the  squire. 

Katy's  head  sank  on  her  breast. .  "  Yes,  sir." 

"Alvin,  look  at  me!" 

Alvin  lifted  his  head  slowly.  He  saw  jail  yawning 
before  him.  If  they  searched  his  house,  they  could 
still  find  a  few  of  Katy's  silver  coins.  Then  under 
the  pressure  of  fear  —  Alvin  as  yet  felt  no  shame  — 
his  mind  worked  to  some  purpose.  There  was  one 
possible  defense  to  make;  this  he  offered. 

"Katy  often  gave  me  money  and  put  it  in  that 
place  for  me,"  he  said,  boldly.  "There  I  got  it  many 
times.  Ain't — "  Alvin's  normal  school  training 
suddenly  forsook  him  —  "ain't  it  so,  Katy?" 

"You  must  be  wandering  in  your  mind,  Alvin," 
said  the  squire,  scornfully. 

"There  he  will  not  wander  far,"  cried  Bevy  with 
a  shrill  laugh. 

Alvin  rose  from  his  chair  and  approached  Katy. 
Color  returned  to  his  cheek,  his  eyes  brightened. 

"Ain't  it  so,  Katy,  that  you  often  put  money  in 
that  hole  forme?" 

"Humbug!"  cried  the  squire. 

But  Alvin  persisted.  He  went  nearer  to  Katy, 
and  with  single  united  motion  Katy's  relatives 
sprang  toward  him.  Aunt  Sally  put  her  arm  round 
her  niece,  Bevy  made  a  threatening  motion  toward 
Alvin's  ear,  Uncle  Edwin  seized  him  by  the  arm. 


250  KATY  GAUMER 

But  Alvin  grew  ever  bolder.  Despite  the  threats  of 
Bevy  and  the  hand  of  Edwin,  he  took  another  step 
toward  Katy. 

"Say  you  gave  money  to  me  often,  Katy?'1 

Katy  answered  in  a  low  voice.  She  was  too  con 
fused  to  think  of  any  expedient;  she  answered  with 
the  truth.  Perhaps  that  would  put  an  end  to  this 
intolerable  scene.  It  would  be  bad  enough  to  have 
them  know,  but  it  was  worse  to  stand  here  in  misery 
with  them  all  staring  at  her. 

11  Yes,"  she  answered  Alvin,  "  I  did  give  you  some 
times  money." 

"What!"  cried  the  squire. 

Uncle  Edwin  and  Bevy  each  gave  a  kind  of 
groan. 

Katy  lifted  her  head. 

"I  said4  yes."' 

Now  Bevy  began  to  cry  aloud. 

"Next  time  I  will  not  take  you  to  the  squire,  you 
lump!  Next  time  I  will  twist  your  ear  quite  off.  I 
will  settle  you  right!" 

"Bevy,  you  had  better  go,"  suggested  the  squire; 
and  meekly  Bevy  departed. 

"Edwin,  suppose  you  and  Sally  leave  these  young 
people  here." 

Together  Uncle  Edwin  and  Aunt  Sally  approached 
the  door.  Aunt  Sally  was  wiping  her  eyes  on  her 
apron;  Uncle  Edwin  walked  with  bent  head  as 
though  the  name  of  Gaumer  was  disgraced  forever. 
Them  the  squire  followed  to  the  door,  and  outside, 


KATY  GAUMER  251 

wishing  to  be  certain  that  no  curious  Millerstonians 
lingered.  With  his  hand  on  the  outer  knob,  he 
closed  the  door  while  he  promised  to  see  Edwin 
later  in  the  evening.  Edwin  stopped  to  express  his 
horror  at  this  strange  situation;  their  conversation 
consumed  a  few  seconds  at  least. 

Behind  the  closed  door  Alvin  approached  Katy 
as  she  stood  by  the  squire's  desk,  numb,  smitten, 
unable  to  raise  her  head. 

"  Katy,"  said  he,  softly,  "  I  do  not  care  if  you  have 
worked  out,  Katy.  That  is  less  than  nothing  to  me. 
I  am  never  going  to  marry  that  other  one.  She  is  no 
good.  I  will  marry  you,  Katy.  I  did  not  know"  — 
Alvin's  voice  shook  —  "I  did  not  know  till  this  time 
how  I  love  you,  Katy." 

At  this  point  Alvin  laid  his  hand  upon  Katy's 
arm  and  applied  a  tender  pressure. 
i  Then,  suddenly,  furiously,  Alvin  was  flung  aside, 
back  against  the  sharp  point  of  the  squire's  desk. 
Young  women  do  not  keep  house  in  the  Pennsyl 
vania  German  fashion,  with  sweeping  and  scrub 
bing  and  beating  of  carpets,  without  developing 
considerable  muscular  power.  Terrified,  bruised  by 
contact  with  the  sharp  corner  of  the  desk,  Alvin 
lifted  hands  to  defend  himself  from  Katy,  whose 
worth  he  had  learned  so  suddenly  to  value. 

Katy,  however,  stayed  to  punish  him  no  further. 
Instead,  she  rushed  across  the  room  and  threw  her 
self  into  the  arms  of  the  squire.  She  spoke  shrilly, 
she  sobbed  and  cried. 


252  KATY  GAUMER 

"Send  him  away  and  let  me  talk  to  you  alone! 
I  must  talk  to  you!  Oh,  please  send  him  away!" 

Alvin  needed  no  orders.  He  read  in  the  squire's 
expression  permission  to  depart,  and  he  slipped 
sidewise  out  the  door,  making  himself  as  small  as 
possible  for  the  passage. 

When  the  door  had  closed  behind  him,  the  squire 
put  Katy  into  a  corner  of  the  sofa  in  his  back  office 
and  sat  down  beside  her. 

"Now,  Katy,  begin." 

With  tears  and  hysterical  laughter,  Katy  began 
her  story. 

"I  thought  I  was  so  fine  and  powerful  when  I 
helped  him.  I  thought  I  was  rich  with  my  two  hun 
dred  dollars  and  that  I  could  do  anything.  I  thought 
he  had  no  chance  and  I  would  help  him.  I  pitied 
him  because  he  had  a  bad  name  from  his  father. 
The  worst  thing  was  I  liked  him.  Oh,  dear!  Oh, 
dear!" 

The  squire's  frown  grew  blacker  and  blacker. 

"He  took  the  money  and  never  paid  any  of  it 
back,  and  then  stole  this  from  you  yet !  Money  you 
were  saving  to  pay  me!  Money  you  had  borrowed 
for  him!  Oh,  Katy,  Katy!"  Then,  suddenly,  the 
squire  laughed.  "Katy,  dear,  I  bought  a  gold  brick 
like  this  once.  It  was  n't  just  like  this,  but  it  cost 
me  much  more.  WeVe  got  to  learn,  all  of  us!  Oh, 
you  poor  soul !  And  my  gold  brick  was  not  bought 
for  the  sake  of  charity,  Katy!"  The  squire  laughed 
and  laughed  and  Katy  cried  and  cried  as  her  head 


KATY  GAUMER  253 

rested  upon  the  broad  shoulder  which  had  been 
offered  to  her  earlier.  "Now,  Katy,  it  is  late  and  I 
will  take  you  home." 

The  squire  put  Katy's  scarlet  shawl  about  her  and 
took  her  by  the  arm,  and  together  they  went  up  the 
misty  street.  At  the  Hartmans'  gate  the  squire  left 
his  companion.  Then,  with  a  quicker  stride  he 
sought  the  house  of  Alvin  Koehler. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

ALVIN  DOES   PENANCE  AND  IS   SHRIVEN 

THE  squire  stayed  for  fifteen  minutes  with  Alvin 
Koehler;  when  he  left,  Alvin  was  limp;  he  sat  in  his 
little  house  and  wept.  Hitherto  in  his  life  Alvin 
had  had  grave  difficulties;  he  had  been  unhappy  in 
his  poverty ;  he  had  been  embarrassed  by  the  queer- 
ness  of  his  father;  he  had  been  disturbed  when  he 
feared  that  Katy  Gaumer  would  not  keep  her 
promise  and  help  him  go  to  school;  he  had  been 
terrified  by  the  behavior  of  the  Millerstown  children 
and  by  the  overshadowing  cloud  of  his  unpaid  bills. 

But  now  a  new  emotion  filled  his  heart  and 
weighed  down  his  spirit.  He  was  now,  for  the  first 
time,  bitterly  ashamed.  He  had  told  the  squire  all 
his  misery ;  his  debt  to  the  storekeeper,  to  the  land 
lord,  to  Sarah  Ann,  to  Katy,  to  the  coal  dealer,  to 
the  jeweler,  to  the  tailor.  He  had  a  notion  that  in 
thus  confessing  he  was  doing  penance.  He  had  also 
a  vain  and  foolish  hope  that  the  squire  might  offer 
to  help  him. 

"I  am  turned  inside  out,"  he  mourned  when  the 
squire  had  gone.  "There  is  nothing  to  me  any 


more." 


It  was  on  Friday  that  Alvin  was  caught,  wire  in 
hand,  investigating  the  contents  of  Katy's  putlock 


KATY  GAUMER  255 

bank.  That  night  he  did  not  sleep.  He  sat  by  his 
table,  pencil  in  hand,  contemplating  the  problem 
which  confronted  him  and  trying  to  work  out  a  sum 
in  proportion.  If  he  owed  Katy  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  and  Sarah  Ann  Mohr  twenty  dollars, 
and  the  landlord  fifty-eight  dollars,  and  the  coal 
dealer  fifteen  dollars,  and  the  tailor  thirty  dollars, 
how  much  of  his  next  month's  salary  should  justly 
go  to  each  —  provided,  of  course,  that  he  were  not 
summarily  dismissed  from  his  position  and  thus  de 
prived  of  his  salary?  Over  the  difficult  problem  he 
fell  asleep  toward  morning. 

He  did  not  go  to  Sarah  Ann's  for  breakfast,  a  fact 
which  caused  Sarah  Ann  no  uneasiness,  as  he  usually 
took  advantage  of  the  Saturday  holiday  to  sleep  late 
and  thus  make  a  good  recovery  from  the  exhaustion 
following  his  arduous  association  with  the  Millers- 
town  children.  Besides,  another  subject  had  this 
morning  the  whole  of  Sarah  Ann's  attention  and  the 
attention  of  Millerstown.  Cassie  Hartman  had  died 
suddenly  in  the  night. 

Nor  did  Alvin  go  to  Sarah  Ann's  for  dinner,  but 
supported  life  with  some  crackers  and  apples  which 
were  in  his  house.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  passers- 
by  looked  curiously  at  his  dwelling;  he  was  certain 
that  the  story  of  his  difficulties  had  spread  over 
Millerstown.  Who  could  ever  have  dreamed  that 
Katy  would  treat  him  so  shabbily? 

Late  in  the  afternoon  there  came  a  ponderous 
step  along  his  board  walk  and  a  knock  at  the  door. 


256  KATY  GAUMER 

Terrified,  Alvin  sat  still  until  the  rap  was  repeated, 
then  he  opened  the  door  a  tiny  crack.  Without 
stood  a  no  more  terrifying  person  than  Sarah  Ann. 

At  sight  of  Sarah  Ann,  however,  Alvin  trembled. 
Sarah  Ann  had  again  reminded  him,  gently  but  with 
firmness,  that  her  Thank  Offering  was  long  over 
due. 

"  I  made  it  up  out  of  the  money  I  keep  for  regu 
lar  collections,  Alvin,"  Sarah  Ann  had  explained. 
"  I  keep  that  money  in  a  little  can.  But  now  that 
little  can  is  empty.  I  have  nothing  for  General 
Fund." 

"I  cannot  pay  you."  Thus  Alvin  greeted  her 
miserably  through  an  inch-wide  crack.  "I  will  try 
to  pay  you  sometime,  Sarah  Ann,  but  I  cannot  pay 
you  now." 

"I  am  not  here  for  pay,"  protested  Sarah  Ann, 
weeping.  "It  is  not  a  day  for  collecting  money  in 
Millerstown.  Poor  Cassie  is  gone." 

"  Cassie?  "  repeated  Alvin,  vacantly.  So  engrossed 
was  Alvin  with  his  own  joys  in  time  of  joy,  and  with 
his  own  sorrows  in  time  of  sorrow,  that  persons  not 
immediately  associated  with  him  disappeared  en 
tirely  from  the  circle  of  his  consciousness. 

"Why,  yes,  Cassie  Hartman,  David 's  mom. 
David  is  now  an  orphan." 

Alvin  shook  his  head  solemnly  at  this  intelligence, 
remembering  that  he  was  practically  an  orphan, 
too.  Beyond  that  he  did  not  consider  the  situation. 
He  felt  no  satisfaction  at  the  Hartmans'  misfor- 


KATY  GAUMER  257 

tunes;  he  had  never  cherished  any  animosity  toward 
them,  but  only  a  vague  envy  of  their  worldly  pos 
sessions. 

1 ' 1  am  here  now  to  see  why  you  do  not  come  to 
your  dinner,"  went  on  Sarah  Ann.  "The  folks  say 
you  are  not  going  to  get  married,  after  all,  Alvin. 
Is  it  so,  Alvin?  I  thought  you  were  sick.  I  had 
Sauerkraut  for  dinner,  but  still  you  did  not  come. 
I  can  heat  it  for  supper.  Ach,  there  is  nothing  but 
trouble  in  this  world!" 

Alvin  desired  to  tell  Sarah  Ann  all  his  woes.  Like 
the  Ancient  Mariner,  he  would  find  relief  in  re 
counting  the  story  of  his  griefs.  But  he  was  now  too 
weak  to  do  anything  but  select  a  hat  from  the  row 
hanging  behind  the  door.  So  low  was  he  in  his  mind 
that  he  chose  the  shabbiest  one  of  all.  Then  he 
followed  Sarah  Ann  down  the  street.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  there  were  many  inches  between  the  front 
of  his  body  and  his  vest.  He  was  certain  that  he 
had  lost  many  pounds,  and  he  thought  that  perhaps 
he  would  waste  away.  That,  he  decided  gloomily, 
would  be  one  solution  of  his  troubles. 

Once  fed,  Alvin  felt  his  spirits  rise.  There  was 
that  in  Sarah  Ann's  substantial  victuals  which  was 
calculated  to  put  heart  into  a  man,  there  was  tonic 
in  her  urging,  tearful  though  it  was. 

"Ach,  a  little  pie,  Alvin,  if  it  is  you  good  enough! 
It  is  not  to-day's  pie,  but  yesterday's  pie,  but  it  is 
not  yet  soft.  Some  pies  get  softer  than  others 
quicker.  Ach,  a  little  rusk,  too,  Alvin!  It  stood 


258  KATY  GAUMER 

round  long  enough  already.  Take  jelly  for  on  it, 
Alvin.  Rusk  is  not  good  without  a  spread.  It  is  too 
dry." 

When  Alvin  had  finished  the  first  course,  he  no 
longer  felt  physically  shrunken;  when  he  had  fin 
ished  the  second,  he  had  ceased  entirely  to  be  con 
scious  of  the  deadly  twist  of  Bevy's  grasp  upon  his 
ear.  Of  Katy  and  the  squire  no  amount  of  food 
could  hearten  him  to  think. 

But  when  he  had  finished  his  supper  and  had 
thanked  Sarah  Ann  and  had  shut  himself  out  of  her 
pleasant  kitchen  into  a  cold  damp  night,  he  remem 
bered  that  he  had  no  place  to  go.  On  other  Satur 
days  he  had  sought  the  home  of  Bessie  in  the 
county  seat,  but  he  could  not  go  there  now. 

"  I  have  no  father  and  no  mother  and  no  friends/' 
mourned  Alvin  to  himself.  "I  am  an  outcast.  I 
must  go  back  to  my  cold  house." 

The  wind  made  the  limbs  of  the  trees  creak  above 
his  head;  loose  bricks  sank  sloppily  under  his  feet, 
splashing  his  ankles;  his  heart  sank  lower  and 
lower.  The  street  lamps  burned  dimly;  as  most  of 
the  citizens  of  Millerstown  sat  in  the  kitchens,  the 
fronts  of  their  houses  were  dark  and  inhospitable. 
For  his  own  lamp  at  home  he  had  no  oil  and  no 
money  to  buy  oil.  But  home  he  must  go.  He  saw 
ahead  of  him  two  men,  one  tall  and  young,  the  other 
broader  of  shoulder,  and  not  so  tall.  He  recognized 
them  as  the  squire  and  David  Hartman ;  he  realized 
dully  that  David  had  just  come  home  to  his  empty 


.KATY  GAUMER  259 

house,  but  his  thought  accompanied  the  two  men 
no  farther  than  the  next  street  lamp. 

There,  mental  as  well  as  physical  light  flashed 
into  Alvin's  gloom.  The  Improved  New  Mennon- 
ites  were  in  the  midst  of  a  series  of  meetings;  into 
the  misty  darkness  of  the  street  their  light  shone 
pleasantly,  into  the  lonely  quiet  their  song  poured 
cheerfully.  Here  was  an  invitation. 

At  once  Alvin  turned  his  steps  toward  their  little 
church.  He  remembered  with  a  thrill,  a  weak  thrill 
it  is  true,  but  none  the  less  a  thrill,  Essie's  pretty 
face,  her  curly  hair,  her  friendly  glance.  To  a  church 
every  one  was  welcome.  He  went  in  and  sat  down 
humbly  in  the  last  pew,  —  no  high  seat  for  Alvin 
in  his  present  state  of  mind!  He  saw  in  the  front 
row  no  little,  round  head  of  Bevy  Schnepp  with  its 
tight  knot  of  hair  at  the  back.  Involuntarily  and 
with  great  relief  Alvin  lifted  a  hand  to  his  own  head. 

The  preacher  either  directed  his  sermon  toward 
Alvin,  or  else  happened  accidentally  upon  a  text 
applicable  to  that  young  gentleman's  condition.  He 
reproved  those  whose  hearts  were  set  on  worldly 
possessions,  and  Alvin  groaned  within  himself. 
Doorknobs  were  a  sign  of  pride  —  Alvin  had  him 
self  set  a  glittering  knob  upon  the  jamb  of  his  front 
door.  Organs  in  the  parlor  were  a  snare  —  Alvin 
had  long  since  discussed  the  purchase  of  a  piano 
with  a  piano  dealer.  Fine  clothes  spelled  perdition. 

Poor  Alvin  began  to  wish  himself  out  upon  the 
dark  street.  If  what  the  preacher  said  were  true, 


260  KATY  GAUMER 

then  he  was  lost.  It  is  hard  to  say  what  Alvin's 
views  of  the  preacher's  discourse  would  have  been 
if  he  could  have  continued  to  call  his  own  his  dear 
belongings.  Now  that  they  were  to  be  taken  from 
him,  he  felt  that  it  was  wrong  ever  to  have  had 
them. 

Then,  in  the  depths  to  which  he  sank,  Alvin 
longed  again  more  desperately  than  ever  to  make 
confession  and  to  be  absolved.  He  could  not  en 
dure  another  listener  so  hard-hearted  as  the  squire ; 
he  craved  a  sympathetic  ear,  a  tender  eye,  —  a  fem 
inine  eye  and  ear,  in  short. 

The  sermon  ended,  pretty  Essie  went  to  the 
organ.  Facing  the  audience  she  looked  at  each  one, 
sighing  a  little  at  the  dullness  of  life.  Then  Essie's 
lovely  eyes  brightened.  Alvin  Koehler  was  here! 
Alvin's  gaze  was  upon  her;  Alvin,  in  spite  of  the 
unusual  disarray  of  his  clothes,  was  still  handsome; 
his  eyes  responded  to  her  glance  before  she  looked 
down  at  her  music.  During  the  course  of  the  hymn 
Essie  looked  at  him  again;  gradually  her  eyes  nar 
rowed;  into  them  came  a  startled  expression.  She 
could  see  the  change  in  his  appearance;  his  jaunti- 
ness  was  gone ;  he  was  no  longer  the  accepted  lover. 
Into  Essie's  eyes  came  an  intent  expression  like  that 
which  brightens  the  eyes  of  a  hunter  as  he  sees  the 
approach  of  his  game.  Alvin  was  not  himself;  he 
was  in  trouble.  Unconsciously  Essie  quickened  the 
time  of  her  hymn  so  that  it  changed  from  a  dirge, 
intended  to  soften  the  hearts  of  the  impenitent,  to 


KATY  GAUMER  261 

a  gay,  triumphant  measure.  Fortunately,  the  hymn 
was  already  near  its  end;  there  was  no  chance  for 
the  preacher  to  observe  the  quickening  of  the 
tune. 

Waiting  outside  the  door,  Alvin  joined'  Essie  as 
she  came  from  the  church.  Her  father  lingered 
within  to  talk  to  some  of  his  members;  there  was 
opportunity  for  long  and  earnest  discourse  as  Alvin 
walked  by  the  side  of  Essie. 

"You  see  how  it  was,"  said  Alvin  from  time  to 
time.  Or,  "That  was  why  I  did  it!" 

"She  made  me  get  everything  ready,"  complained 
Alvin,  bitterly.  "Then,  when  I  had  gone  to  all  this 
expense  and  was  in  debt  to  it  yet,  she  would  n't 
have  me,  and  I  had  used  my  salary  ahead,  and  I  — • 
I  took  a  little  money  to  help  myself  out.  It  was 
money  I  might  have  had  if  I  had  asked.  But  I  did 
n't  like  to  ask.  It  was  in  a  way,  you  might  say, 
mine.  But  I  meant  to  put  it  back,  Essie!" 

Wisely  Alvin  entered  into  no  further  particulars, 
nor  did  he  tell  the  name  of  the  person  from  whom 
he  had  taken  the  money.  Somehow  Essie  got  the 
impression  that  it  was  the  squire.  That  impression 
Essie  was  allowed  to  keep. 

"Then  you  have  sin  on  your  mind."  Thus  with 
glowing  cheeks  Essie  diagnosed  Alvin's  case.  In 
reality  Alvin  had  no  sin,  but  the  fear  of  punishment 
on  his  mind. 

"Yes,"  he  said. 

Essie's  cheeks  glowed  more  brightly;  she  clasped 


262  KATY  GAUMER 

her  hands.  She  was  not  only  curing  the  invalid,  she 
was  binding  him  to  his  physician  forever. 

"  You  must  make  everything  right,"  she  declared. 
"  Every  thing  down  to  the  last  penny.  Then  you 
will  have  peace,  Alvin,  and  not  before.  You  must 
go  back  to  your  childhood.  Can  you  remember 
anything  else  you  did?" 

"I  took  cherries  from  trees  already,"  confessed 
Alvin.  "I  put  once  five  cents  in  the  church  collec 
tion  and  took  six  cents  change  out.  I  took  often  the 
cakes  that  Bevy  Schnepp  baked  and  put  in  a  hole 
for  —  for" —  here  Alvin  had  the  grace  to  gulp 
mightily  —  "for  other  children.  Ach,  Essie!"  Alvin 
was  terrified  by  the  stern  gaze  bent  upon  him.  He 
had  expected  to  take  her  hand,  to  lay  his  head  on 
her  shoulder,  to  touch  her  soft  cheek.  It  was  a  long 
time,  or  it  seemed  a  long  time,  since  Alvin  had 
touched  a  soft  cheek.  But  instead  of  soothing  him, 
Essie  grew  each  moment  colder  and  more  distant. 
"Don't  turn  away  from  me!  I  will  do  everything 
you  say.  What  shall  I  do?" 

"You  must  make  all  these  things  right,"  com 
manded  the  young  judge.  "That  is  the  only  way." 

"Dare  I,  then,  come  to  see  you,  Essie?  You  will 
not  turn  me  off?" 

"You  must  make  it  right  with  all  these  people," 
insisted  Essie  again.   She  had  taken  Alvin  into  the 
little  sitting-room  of  her  father's  house.    She  rose 
now  and  moved  to  the  back  of  her  chair  as  though^ 
to  put  a  barrier  between  herself  and  Alvin. 


KATY  GAUMER  263 

Alvin  went  home  and  sat  him  down  at  his  table. 
The  March  wind  had  begun  to  blow  again;  Alvin's 
fire  was  pitifully  small;  he  anticipated  the  dreary 
Sunday  with  horror. 

"Oh,  my  soul!"  wailed  poor  Alvin.  "Oh,  my 
soul!" 

Once  more  he  set  himself  to  work  with  paper  and 
pencil.  There  was  Sarah  Ann  —  he  had  often  picked 
raspberries  as  he  passed  along  her  fence,  but  Sarah 
Ann  would  willingly  forgive  him.  It  would  be  ridic 
ulous  even  to  ask  Sarah  Ann.  Mom  Fackenthal 
would  forgive  him  also  for  the  cherries  he  had  taken. 
There  was  Bevy  —  to  banish  this  gnawing  misery 
from  his  heart  he  could  approach  even  Bevy. 

When  he  had  determined  upon  a  course  of  action, 
he  went  to  bed  and  slept  soundly.  The  course  of 
action,  it  must  be  confessed,  would  seem  very 
strange  to  a  person  of  common  sense.  But  Alvin 
did  not  have  common  sense. 

In  the  morning  he  slept  late;  in  the  evening  he 
went  to  the  church  of  the  Improved  New  Mennon- 
ites.  He  would  walk  home  with  Essie,  he  would 
talk  over  his  plans  with  her.  Even  a  medical  clinic 
involving  the  shedding  of  blood  would  not  have 
been  altogether  unpleasant  to  Alvin  if  he  could  have 
been  the  subject. 

But  Essie  would  scarcely  speak  to  him.  She  wore 
under  her  chin  a  blue  bow,  about  as  much  of  a  deco 
ration  as  her  principles  would  allow,  and  she  was 
an  alluring  spectacle.  When  Alvin  stepped  to  her 


264  KATY  GAUMER 

side,  she  asked  him  a  single  question,  her  eyes  nar 
rowing  again  like  a  fisherman's. 

"Have  you  made  everything  right?" 
.  "This  was  Sunday!"  Alvin  reminded  her. , 

Essie  made  no  friendly  motion,  but  shook  her 
head  solemnly  and  went  on  alone. 

In  the  morning  before  school  Alvin  visited  Mom 
Fackenthal. 

"Cherries!"  said  that  pleasant  old  lady.  "It  is 
not  time  yet  for  cherries.  You  want  to  pay  for  cher 
ries?"  Mom  Fackenthal  was  slightly  deaf.  "You 
don't  owe  me  anything  for  cherries.  Cherries  that 
you  stole?  When  did  you  steal  cherries?  When  you 
were  little!  Humbug!  Not  a  cent,  Alvin.  Keep 
your  money.  Why,  all  boys  take  cherries,  that  is 
why  there  are  so  many.  Are  you  crazy,  Alvin?" 

With  Sarah  Ann  the  result  of  his  interview  was 
the  same. 

"You  took  my  raspberries,  you  say?  Why,  I 
planted  those  raspberries  near  the  fence  for  the 
children.  You  were  welcome  to  them,  Alvin." 

But  the  way  of  peace  was  not  always  so  easy. 

"What!"  roared  Bevy,  furious  because  he  dared 
to  approach  her.  "You  stole  cakes  off  of  me!  I  bet 
you  did,  Alvin.  You  want  to  pay  me?  Nothing  of 
the  kind.  You  pay  Katy  what  you  owe  her.  Get 
out  of  here ! ' ' 

Threatened  with  the  broom,  Alvin  stood  his 
ground  bravely.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Bevy  had  been 
strictly  charged  by  the  squire  to  let  no  word  of  what 


KATY  GAUMER  265 

had  happened  escape  her.  But  there  was  no  reason 
why  she  should  not  give  Alvin  a  piece  of  her  mind. 

"You  are  good-for-nothing,  Alvin.  I  should  think 
you  would  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  I  should  think 
you  would  go  and  hide!" 

Then  upon  the  angry  fire  of  Bevy's  rage,  Alvin 
undertook  to  pour  the  water  of  a  pleasant  announce 
ment. 

"I  am  going  to  join  your  church,  Bevy." 

"Nonsense!"  shrieked  Bevy.  "Humbug!  They 
would  n't  have  you!" 

Alvin  grew  maudlin  in  his  humility. 

"  I  wish  you  would  like  me  a  little,  Bevy." 

"The  farther  away  you  are  the  better  I  like  you," 
shrieked  Bevy  like  a  fury. 

The  news  of  Alvin 's  strange  seeking  for  forgive 
ness  followed  close  upon  the  rumor  that  the  lady  of 
his  choice  had  rejected  him.  Millerstown  looked  at 
him  with  interest  and  pity.  Even  the  landlord  and 
the  coal  dealer  felt  a  slight  softening  of  the  heart. 
The  children  in  school  were  obedient  for  the  first 
time  in  months. 

But  there  still  remained  several  persons  for  Alvin 
to  see.  He  had  as  yet  not  approached  the  coal 
dealer  and  the  landlord.  Nor  had  he  yet  interviewed 
his  chief  debtor.  Her  Alvin  did  not  dare  to  visit. 
Nor  did  he  wish  to  approach  the  landlord  and  the 
coal  dealer  until  he  had  a  little  money.  But  until 
things  were  made  right,  Essie  would  have  none  of 
him.  Monday  evening  Alvin  devoted  to  thought. 


c66  ;  KATY  GAUMER 

On  Tuesday  evening  he  paid  a  mysterious  visit  to 
the  editor  of  the  Millerstown  "Star."  On  Wednes 
day  evening  he  attended  the  prayer-meeting  of  the 
Improved  New  Mennonites.  He  was  a  little  late 
because  he  had  stopped  at  the  post-office.  From  his 
pocket  protruded  a  newspaper. 

Without  asking  permission,  he  joined  Essie  on 
the  homeward  way;  without  invitation  he  followed 
her  into  the  house.  He  drew  the  paper  from  his 
pocket  and  offered  it  to  Essie.  No  one  but  an  Im 
proved  New  Mennonite  or  an  acolyte  of  the  Im 
proved  New  Mennonites  could  have  manufactured 
so  remarkable  a  document. 

"What  is  it?"  said  Essie  as  she  took  the  paper. 

"There,"  answered  Alvin,  pointing. 

Essie's  eyes  followed  his  finger  down  the  first 
column  of  the  first  page.  Sarah  Ann  Mohr  would 
find  this  week  more  food  for  thought  and  discussion 
in  the  Millerstown  local  news  than  in  the  account  of 
men  turning  into  lions. 

"If  I  have  done  injury  to  any  one,"  read  Essie, 
"I  ask  that  they  forgive  me.  ALVIN  KOEHLER." 

Essie's  eyes  did  not  lift  from  the  page  for  a  long 
time.  When  they  did,  they  had  ceased  to  burn. 
Since  her  first  advent  into  Millerstown,  Essie  had 
longed  for  a  possession  which  she  considered  pre 
cious.  Now,  at  last,  it  was  hers.  Now,  at  last,  also 
was  there  hope  for  Alvin. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A  SILVER  CHALICE 

WITH  knees  trembling  and  lips  quivering,  Katy 
hastened  across  the  Hartman  lawn.  She  was  still 
smarting  too  hotly  from  the  shock  of  her  loss  and 
the  shame  of  discovery  to  realize  how  great  a  burden 
had  been  lifted  from  her  shoulders  by  the  mere 
sharing  of  her  secret.  Poor  Alvin  seemed  meaner 
than  he  was,  her  association  with  him  criminal,  her 
self  imbecilic.  She  remembered  his  touch  with 
loathing,  his  beseeching  gaze  with  disgust.  She 
thought  of  his  father,  with  his  queer,  glancing  eyes, 
his  muttering,  his  praying.  It  was  no  wonder  that 
David  Hartman  despised  them.  She  saw  herself 
through  David's  scornful  eyes;  she  remembered  the 
outrageous  struggle  at  the  Sheep  Stable;  she  could 
have  sunk  through  the  ground  in  her  distress. 

But  David  had  been  avenged.  Against  her  new 
madness  of  affection  Katy  was  still  struggling.  By 
night  she  dreamed  of  David,  by  day  she  thought  of 
David.  Her  care  of  Cassie,  her  sweeping  and  clean 
ing  of  the  great  house,  had  become  labors  of  love. 

"I  do  not  think  even  any  more  of  education," 
mourned  Katy  in  her  alarm.  "I  am  at  last  quite 
crazy." 

She   hurried   now   into   the   Hartman   kitchen, 


268  KATY  GAUMER 

alarmed  because  she  had  been  so  long  away.  Cassie 
grew  daily  worse,  a  little  less  able  to  make  the 
journey  from  her  bed  to  the  settle  in  the  kitchen, 
a  little  more  preoccupied,  a  little  more  silent. 
Katy's  attentions  troubled  her,  she  did  not  like  to 
have  a  hand  laid  upon  her  shoulder  or  an  arm  thrown 
round  her.  Once,  when  she  had  insisted  upon  going 
about  the  house,  she  had  fainted,  and  Katy  had 
sent  in  terror  for  the  doctor,  and  Cassie  had  been 
put  to  bed  in  her  little  room.  When  she  had  recov 
ered  in  a  measure,  she  told  Katy  where  she  would 
find  in  the  drawers  of  one  of  the  great  bureaus  cer 
tain  clothes  for  her  laying  away.  It  was  not  a  cheer 
ful  position  which  Katy  held ! 

To-day  Cassie  had  stayed  in  her  bed,  her  cheek 
on  her  hand,  her  eyes  closed.  Often  she  lay  thus  for 
hours.  She  did  not  seem  to  think,  often  she  did  not 
seem  to  breathe.  The  atrophy  of  Cassie's  mind  and 
heart  were  almost  complete. 

Katy,  opening  the  door  softly,  so  as  not  to  rouse 
Cassie  if  she  slept,  found  the  kitchen  as  she  had  left 
it,  dark  and  silent  and  warm.  She  did  not  stop  to 
take  off  the  scarlet  shawl  which  she  had  worn  when 
she  went  to  satisfy  herself  that  her  hoard  was  still 
in  the  putlock  hole,  but  climbed  at  once  the  steep, 
narrow  stairway  which  led  to  the  rooms  above.  Her 
body  ached  for  rest,  but  there  was  still  bread  to  be 
set  and  the  fire  to  be  fixed  for  the  night.  There 
awaited  Katy,  also,  a  more  difficult  experience  than 
these.  •-" 


KATY  GAUMER  269 

Upstairs,  also,  all  was  dark  and  quiet.  Katy  tip 
toed  across  the  hall  to  look  in  upon  the  invalid. 
With  hands  resting  on  the  sides  of  the  door,  she 
peered  in.  She  could  see  the  outlines  of  the  bureau 
and  the  narrow  bed ;  she  thought  that  she  heard  the 
even,  regular  breathing  of  the  sleeper,  and  she  was 
about  to  turn  and  go  down  the  steps.  Then  a  start 
ling  suspicion  halted  her.  The  bedcovers  seemed  to 
hang  straight  and  even  to  the  floor,  the  pillows  to 
stand  stiffly  against  the  headboard ;  there  was,  after 
all,  it  seemed  suddenly  to  Katy,  no  sound  of  breath 
ing.  For  an  instant  she  clung  to  the  door  frame, 
her  back  to  the  room,  then  she  turned  slowly  and 
compelled  herself  to  take  the  few  short  steps  to  the 
bed.  There  she  felt  about  with  her  hands.  The 
covers  were  smooth;  instead  of  the  hand  or  cheek 
of  Cassie  Hartman,  she  touched  the  starched  ruffles 
of  a  fresh  pillowcase. 

"Cassie!"  cried  Katy  in  wild  alarm. 

There  was  no  answer.  Striving  to  make  her  voice 
sound  louder,  but  only  succeeding  in  uttering  a 
fainter  whisper,  Katy  cried  again. 

' '  Cassie !  Where  are  you  ? ' ' 

Still  there  was  no  answer. 

Frantically  Katy  fumbled  about  for  a  match.  The 
room  was  in  order,  a  smooth  towel  covered  the 
bureau,  the  bed  was  freshly  made  as  though  for  a 
stranger.  Katy  stared  stupidly  about  her  until  the 
match  burned  her  fingers  and  she  was  left  in  the 
darkness  which  seemed  to  close  in  upon  her  and 


270  KATY  GAUMER 

smother  her.  The  great  house  with  its  tremendous 
length  and  breadth,  its  many  rooms,  their  blackness, 
the  dark  closets  in  the  eaves  into  which  one  could 
accidentally  shut  one's  self  and  die — the  great  house 
took  shape  about  her,  dim,  mysterious,  terrible. 
Strange  forms  seemed  to  be  here  in  the  room  crowd 
ing  upon  her.  Though  she  was  aware  that  it  threat 
ened  her,  and  though  she  tried  desperately  not  to 
yield  it  entrance  to  her  consciousness,  the  horrible 
recollection  of  John  Hartman's  face  as  he  sat  in  his 
buggy  on  the  mountain  road,  of  the  still  whiteness 
of  the  faces  of  her  own  dead,  crept  slowly  upon  her. 
Must  she  go  through  this  house  searching  for  her 
mistress?  She  dared  not  go  for  aid,  when  Cassie 
might  be  lying  in  some  corner  helpless  or  dying. 
Cassie  could  scarcely  get  out  of  her  bed  alone. 
Where  had  she  gone?  Who  had  made  up  this  bed? 

Then,  in  time  to  save  her  reason,  Katy  heard  a 
faint  voice  addressing  her  from  a  distant  corner  of 
the  great  house. 

"Katy!" 

Katy  moved  slowly  along  the  dark  hall. 

"Ach,  where  are  you?" 

"Here,"  answered  the  faint  voice. 

Supporting  herself  against  the  wall,  Katy  crept 
along.  At  the  end  a  door  opened  into  the  house 
proper,  that  seldom  visited  temple  to  the  gods  of 
order  and  cleanliness.  The  door  now  stood  open. 

"Are  you  sick?  "  gasped  Katy.  "Where  are  you? 
Did  you  fall?". 


KATY  GAUMER  271 

"No,"  came  the  slow  answer.  " I  am  here.  You 
can  make  a  light." 

Falteringly  Katy  obeyed.  On  a  bracket  at  the  end 
of  the  hall  hung  a  lamp ;  this  she  lighted  with  a  great 
clattering  of  globe  against  chimney.  Then,  lifting 
the  lamp,  she  carried  it  into  the  room  from  which 
the  voice  proceeded.  Her  scarlet  shawl  was  still 
about  her,  her  hair  was  disorderly  from  the  squire's 
embrace,  her  eyes  were  wild  and  startled.  She  was 
a  strange  contrast  to  the  room  in  which  she  stood. 

Here  was  the  great  high  bed  with  its  carved  posts, 
each  terminating  in  a  pineapple ;  here  the  interesting 
steps  on  which  one  mounted  to  the  broad  plateau  of 
repose ;  here  the  fine  curtains  and  the  rich  carpet,  — 
all  as  Katy  had  left  them  after  the  last  careful 
sweeping  and  dusting  and  polishing.  But  the  bed 
had  been  disturbed;  in  it  lay  the  mistress  of  the 
house,  white  and  sick,  but  full  of  satisfaction  over 
having  accomplished  her  pitiful  purpose. 

Katy's  wild  eyes  questioned  her. 

"  It  was  time  for  me  to  come,"  announced  Cassie, 
solemnly. 

"It  was  time  for  you  to  come!"  repeated  Katy. 
"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  My  time  has  come,"  explained  Cassie.  "  You  are 
to  go  for  the  preacher." 

Katy  clasped  her  hands  across  her  breast.  She 
remembered  now  the  bureau  in  which  the  white 
underclothes  and  the  black  dress  were  kept.  She 
began  to  cry. 


272  KATY  GAUMER 

"Oh,  no!  I  will  go  for  the  doctor!  You  should  n't 
have  done  this!  You  have  made  yourself  worse! 
I  will  get  you  the  medicine  the  doctor  gave  you, 
then  I  will  run  for  him." 

"You  will  go  for  the  preacher,"  directed  Cassie, 
wearily.  "My  time  has  come." 

Katy  looked  wildly  about  her,  but  found  no  help 
either  in  the  thick  carpet  or  the  heavy  hangings. 
She  was  afraid  to  go,  yet  she  did  not  dare  to  stay. 
Cassie  sank  a  little  deeper  into  her  pillows,  the  shad 
ows  under  her  eyes  seemed  to  darken,  the  covers 
moved  with  her  throbbing  heart. 

"Go!"  she  commanded  thickly. 

Katy  ran  down  the  steps  through  the  kitchen  and 
out  to  the  gate.  The  preacher  lived  nearer  than  the 
doctor;  a  single  knock  and  his  window  was  lifted. 

"Cassie  Hartman  must  see  you!"  cried  Katy. 
"She  is  very  low.  Bring  the  doctor  and  come 
quickly." 

Without  staying  to  hear  whether  there  were  any 
questions  to  be  answered,  Katy  flew  back  into  the 
dark  kitchen  and  up  the  narrow  stairs.  Cassie  lay 
with  her  eyes  closed,  her  hands  folded  across  her 
breast. 

"The  front  door  should  be  opened,  and  there 
should  be  a  light,"  she  gasped. 

"I  cannot  leave  you!" 

"Go '."said  Cassie. 

Again  Katy  flew  to  obey.  David  should  be  sent 
for;  must  she  remind  them  that  David  should  be 


KATY  GAUMER  273 

sent  for?  It  seemed  to  Katy  that  any  observer  could 
see  her  obsession  in  her  face. 

"You  know  where  my  things  are,  Katy,"  whis 
pered  Cassie. 

"Yes,  I  know!  But  you  are  not  going  to  die!" 

"My  time  has  come,"  said  Mrs.  Hartman. 
"Everything  is  attended  to  and  written  out  in  the 
desk.  You  can  tell  the  squire." 

"I  will,"  faltered  Katy,  standing  between  the  tall 
pillars  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  She  remembered  the 
squire's  face  as  he  came  to  tell  her  grandmother 
that  Grandfather  Gaumer  was  dead ;  she  thought  of 
David  and  David's  face  when  he  should  be  told. 
David  would  be  alone  in  the  world;  surely,  though 
he  had  all  its  riches,  he  would  care!  Surely  his 
mother  had  a  message  for  him.  The  preacher  was  a 
newcomer;  he  did  not  know  David;  he  should  give 
him  no  message  from  his  mother!  And  Dr.  Benner 
should  give  him  no  message  from  his  mother.  Katy 
clasped  her  hands  a  little  more  closely  and  looked 
down  upon  Cassie. 

"And  David?" 

Cassie's  eyelids  quivered,  but  she  made  no  reply. 

"Some  one  must  send  for  David!" 

When  Cassie  still  made  no  answer,  Katy  came 
round  the  corner  of  the  bed  and  stood  by  the 
pillow. 

"Suppose"  —  Katy  stammered  and  faltered  — 
"suppose  —  shall  anything  be  said  to  David  if  — 
if—"/ 


274  KATY  GAUMER, 

"  David  will  find  everything  ready,"  said  Cassie, 
wearily.  "He  will  find  everything  in  order.'* 

Katy  leaned  over  the  pillow.  Cassie  could  not 
know  what  it  was  to  die,  to  go  away  forever;  Cassie 
could  not  know  how  one  wept  and  mourned  when 
those  whom  one  loved  had  died;  could  not  know 
how  one  remembered  every  word,  cherished  every 
caress.  David  had  no  one  else,  and  David  was 
young;  David  could  not  be  so  hard  of  heart  as  he 
seemed  or  Cassie  so  stony.  There  was  hardly  a 
person  in  Millerstown  who  would  have  ventured  to 
oppose  Cassie,  or  to  persuade  her  against  her  will. 
But  all  the  characteristics  of  Katy's  youth  had  not 
vanished;  still,  seeing  a  goal,  she  moved  toward  it, 
disregarding  obstacles.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she 
heard  the  gate  swing  open  and  shut,  heard  the 
sound  of  voices,  of  rapid  footsteps.  The  preacher 
and  the  doctor  were  coming,  and  probably  other 
Millerstonians  would  come  with  them.  She  took 
Cassie  by  the  hand  and  was  terrified  by  its  chill. 

"Do  you  not  leave  your  love  for  David ?"  she 
asked,  crying. 

Cassie  looked  up  at  her  with  no  other  expression 
than  slight  astonishment,  as  though  Katy's  language 
were  strange.  Cassie  loved  nothing  that  could  turn 
and  rend  her.  John  had  turned  and  had  rent  her, 
but  in  David's  case  she  had  had  a  care  for  herself, 
from  misery  there  she  had  sternly  and  bravely 
defended  herself.  This  bright-eyed  Katy  with  her 
light  step  and  her  pretty  ways  had  disturbed  her, 


KATY  GAUMER  275 

had  set  her  to  dreaming  at  night  of  a  house  filled 
with  children,  of  growing  boys  and  girls  who  would 
have  loved  their  mother  and  cherished  her. 

And  here  this  same  Katy  hung  above  her,  clung 
to  her,  would  not,  thought  poor  Cassie,  would  not 
let  her  die  as  she  had  planned!  She  did  not  know 
that  hardness  of  heart  was  in  her  a  more  terrible 
hurt  than  any  offense  which  love  could  have  brought. 
In  her  weakness  she  felt  a  sudden  quiver  of  life  in 
that  heart  of  stone ;  it  seemed  as  though  it  melted  to 
water. 

But  she  would  not  yield.  She  tried  to  draw  her 
hand  away  from  the  grasp  which  held  it ;  she  closed 
her  eyes;  she  remembered  how  she  had  defended 
herself  against  grief.  But  she  could  not  get  her  weak 
hand  away,  could  not  shut  out  the  sound  of  Katy's 
voice. 

"What  shall  I  tell  David?  Let  me  tell  David 
something  from  his  mother.  Why,  David  loves  you ! 
David  will  grieve  for  you!  Oh,  please!"  She  lifted 
Mrs.  Hartman's  white  hand  and  held  it  against  her 
cheek,  as  though  she  would  compel  a  blessing.  "Oh, 
please  let  me  tell  David  something !" 

But  no  word  was  spoken,  no  tears  stole  out  from 
under  the  closed  lids.  The  lids  quivered,  opened 
and  closed;  beyond  that  slight  motion  there  was 
nothing.  Already  the  preacher  and  the  doctor  were 
ascending  the  steps.  To  both  the  serious  condition 
of  the  invalid  was  evident.  The  doctor  told  Katy 
in  his  dictatorial  way  that  she  should  not  have 


276  KATY  GAUMER 

allowed  Mrs.  Hartman  to  leave  her  bed.  The  doctor 
always  spoke  to  Katy  with  irritation,  as  though  he 
could  not  quite  escape  the  recollection  of  promises 
made  and  forgotten. 

Cassie  lay  quietly  with  her  hands  clasped  once 
more  on  her  breast.  Her  eyes  were  open  now;  she 
spoke  clearly  in  a  weak  voice,  the  self-control,  fos 
tered  through  years,  serving  her  still.  She  signified 
that  she  wished  her  pastor  to  give  her  the  com 
munion,  for  which  purpose  he  had  brought  with  him 
his  silver  flask  and  chalice  and  paten.  These  he 
spread  out  on  the  little  table  at  the  head  of  Cassie's 
bed. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  bed  stood  Katy,  with 
wide,  tearful  eyes  and  white  cheeks.  The  scene  was 
almost  too  solemn  for  endurance;  the  great  cata 
falque  of  a  bed  with  its  white  valances  and  draperies, 
the  dark  shadows  in  the  corners  of  the  room,  the 
deep  silence  of  the  night,  the  brightly  illuminated, 
earnest  faces  of  the  doctor  and  the  preacher.  But 
all  seemed  to  make  Katy's  eyes  more  clear  to  see, 
her  heart  more  keen  to  remember.  Her  thoughts 
went  back  over  all  the  solemn  services  she  had 
witnessed,  the  watch-night  services  of  her  child 
hood,  the  communion  services,  the  hour  of  her  grand 
mother's  passing.  She  remembered  the  clear  nights 
when  she  had  run  through  the  snow  with  Whiskey 
and  had  been  at  once  so  unhappy  and  so  happy. 
How  foolish  to  be  unhappy  then  when  she  had 
everything!  She  remembered  even  that  morning, 


KATY  GAUMER  277 

long,  long  ago,  when  John  Hartman  had  frightened 
her.  Surely,  as  her  grandmother  said,  she  must  have 
imagined  that  rage!  She  was  nothing  to  John 
Hartman. 

The  minister  had  poured  the  wine  from  the  flask 
into  the  chalice,  and  had  broken  the  bread.  He 
lifted  the  chalice  and  the  light  flashed  from  its 
bright  surface. 

"  Drink  ye  all  of  it,"  he  began  gravely  in  his  deep 
voice. 

Then  Katy  heard  no  more.  She  put  her  arm 
tightly  round  the  tall  post  of  the  bed  and  clung  and 
clung  to  it  as  though  a  great  creature  or  a  great  wave 
threatened  to  drag  her  from  her  feet.  She  looked  far 
away  across  the  wide  bed,  through  the  walls  of  the 
great  house,  over  the  village  and  the  fields  to  the 
church  on  the  hill.  She  was  a  child  again  in  a  red 
dress,  and  she  had  run  unsteadily  out  the  brick 
walk  from  her  grandmother's  kitchen  door  to  the 
gate,  out  to  the  blessed,  free,  forbidden  open  road. 
She  had  talked  to  herself  happily;  she  had  stopped 
to  pull  leaves  which  still  lingered  on  the  Virginia 
creeper  vines  on  the  fences. 

Presently,  when  she  had  trotted  past  the  first 
field,  the  open  door  of  the  church  had  attracted  her. 
She  had  been  taken  to  church  a  few  times;  she 
remembered  the  singing  —  even  that  early  had  the 
strange  performance  of  Henny  Wenner  fascinated 
her;  she  now  turned  her  steps  toward  the  delightful 
place.  In  the  church  an  interesting  man  was  at 


278  KATY  GAUMER 

work  with  a  little  trowel  and  beautiful  soft  mortar, 
and  she  had  watched  him  until  she  had  grown 
sleepy,  whereupon,  with  that  feeling  of  possession 
in  all  the  world  which  had  been  hers  so  keenly  in  her 
childhood,  she  had  laid  herself  down  on  the  soft 
cushion  of  a  pew. 

When  she  woke  the  interesting  little  man  with  his 
trowel  was  no  longer  in  the  church.  Another  man 
had  taken  his  place  before  the  hole  in  the  church 
wall,  and  spying  her  suddenly  had  driven  her  out 
with  anger.  She  had  not  thought  of  it  for  years; 
they  had  persuaded  her  that  she  had  dreamed  it; 
had  told  her  that  if  John  Hartman  had  ever  spoken 
to  her  sharply,  it  was  only  to  send  her  home  where 
she  belonged,  that  he  could  have  against  her  no 
unkindly  feeling. 

But  now  it  came  back,  strangely  illumined.  John 
Hartman  had  driven  her  away  angrily,  and  John 
Hartman  had  held  in  his  hand  a  silver  cup,  the  shape 
of  the  one  which  the  preacher  held  to  Cassie's  pale 
lips,  but  larger,  handsomer.  Upon  it  the  sun  had 
flashed  as  the  lamplight  flashed  now  upon  this 
smaller  cup. 

At  first  Katy  only  remembered  vaguely  that  there 
had  been  trouble  about  the  communion  service,  that 
it  had  disappeared,  that  dishonest  Alvin's  dishonest 
and  crazy  father  had  taken  it.  The  thought  of  Alvin 
brought  to  her  mind  a  new  set  of  sensations,  confus 
ing  her. 

"He  held  it  in  his  hand,"  whispered  Katy  to  her- 


KATY  GAUMER  279 

self.  "Then  he  pushed  it  into  the  hole,  quickly.  I 
saw  him  do  it!" 

She  leaned  her  head  against  the  tall  bedpost,  and 
did  not  hear  the  command  of  the  doctor  to  bring 
water. 

"Katy!"  said  he,  again,  a  little  more  loudly. 

Still  Katy  did  not  stir.  The  preacher  looked  up 
also,  and  his  communion  service  now  over,  came 
quickly  with  an  alarmed  glance  at  Katy  round  the 
great  bed  and  took  her  by  the  arm.  Her  muscles 
were  stiff ;  she  had  only  one  conscious  thought  —  to 
cling  to  the  thing  nearest  to  her.  The  minister  un 
clasped  her  hand  and  half  carrying  her,  half  leading 
her,  took  her  down  to  the  kitchen  and  laid  her  upon 
the  settle.  When  he  had  taken  the  water  to  the  doc 
tor,  he  came  back,  to  find  Katy  sitting  up  and  look 
ing  about  her  in  a  dazed  fashion. 

"You  had  better  lie  down,"  bade  the  preacher. 

Katy  shook  her  head.   "  I  cannot  lie  down." 

"This  has  been  too  much  for  you,"  went  on 
the  preacher  kindly.  "My  wife  is  coming  now  to 
stay.  You  cannot  do  anything  more  for  poor  Mrs. 
Hartman.  If  I  were  you  I  would  go  home.  When 
the  rest  come  I  will  walk  down  the  street  with 
you." 

Katy  looked  at  him  with  somber  eyes  and  did  not 
move. 

"This  house  is  no  place  for  you,  Katy." 

Katy  shivered;  then  she  got  to  her  feet.  She 
remembered  her  aching  desire  to  console  David,  her 


280  KATY  GAUMER 

vague  plans;  she  saw  again  the  shining,  silver  chal 
ice,  the  startled,  terrified  face  of  David's  father  as 
she  tugged  at  his  coat. 

"No,"  agreed  Katy  with  a  stiff  tongue.    "You 
have  right.  This  house  is  no  place  for  me.", 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  SQUIRE  AND  DAVID  TAKE  A  JOURNEY  BY  NIGHT 

ON  Saturday  evening  David  returned  to  Millers- 
town  and  for  the  second  time  in  his  life  entered  his 
father's  house  —  his  house  now  —  by  the  front  door. 
There  were  friendly  lights  here  and  there ;  the  squire, 
who  had  met  him  at  the  train,  slipped  a  kindly  hand 
under  his  arm  as  they  ascended  the  steps  and  crossed 
the  porch.  To  the  squire  the  Hartmans  were  queer, 
unhuman.  But  David  looked  worn  and  miserable; 
perhaps  they  suffered  more  than  one  thought.  In  his 
first  confusion  after  the  disappearance  of  the  com 
munion  service,  John  Hartman  had  behaved  so 
strangely  toward  his  old  friend  that  the  squire  had 
avoided  him  as  a  burnt  child  avoids  the  fire.  But 
that  was  long  ago,  and  here  was  this  boy  come  home 
to  his  mother's  funeral.  The  squire  patted  David's 
shoulder  as  they  entered  the  door. 

David  glanced  with  a  shiver  toward  the  room 
upon  the  left  where  he  had  caught  the  first  glimpse 
of  the  bed  upon  which  his  father  lay.  But  the  door 
was  closed;  Cassie  had  not  been  moved  from  the 
catafalque  upon  which  she  died. 

From  the  dim  end  of  the  long  hall,  a  short  figure 
advanced  to  meet  the  two  men.  It  was  not  Katy, 
who  had  resigned  her  place,  but  Bevy,  who  had  come 


282  KATY  GAUMER 

to  stay  until  the  funeral  was  over.  Bevy  shook 
hands  with  David  solemnly,  looking  up  at  him  with 
awe,  as  the  owner  of  farms  and  orchards  and  this 
great  house  and  unreckoned  bank  stock.  She  had 
spread  his  supper  in  the  kitchen,  and  the  squire  sat 
with  him  while  he  ate.  Then  the  two  men  went 
upstairs  together. 

In  Cassie's  room  a  light  burned  faintly.  The 
squire  turned  it  higher  and  then  looked  at  David. 

"Shall  I  go  down,  David?" 

"No,"  said  David. 

The  squire  crossed  the  room  slowly  and  laid  back 
the  cover  from  Cassie's  face;  then  both  men  stood 
still,  looking  first  at  the  figure  on  the  bed,  then  at 
each  other.  Cassie  had  always  been  beautiful,  but 
now  an  unearthly  loveliness  lighted  her  face.  Her 
dark  hair  was  braided  high  on  her  head ;  her  broad 
forehead  with  its  beautifully  arched  brows  seemed  to 
shed  an  actual  radiance.  David  had  never  observed 
his  mother's  beauty,  but  now,  in  the  last  few  months, 
he  had  wakened  to  aspects  to  which  he  had  been 
blind.  He  had  seen  beautiful  women;  he  could  com 
pare  them  with  his  mother  as  she  lay  before  him. 
He  looked  at  her  hands,  still  shapely  in  spite  of  the 
hard  toil  of  her  life,  folded  now  across  her  quiet 
breast;  he  noted  the  shape  of  her  forehead;  he  saw 
the  smile  with  which  she  seemed  to  be  contemplat 
ing  some  secret  and  lovely  thing. 

Upon  the  squire  the  sight  of  Cassie  made  a  deep 
impression.  Tears  came  into  his  eyes,  and  he  shook 


KATY  GAUMER  283 

his  head  as  though  before  him  lay  an  unfathomable 
mystery.  He  felt  about  her  as  he  might  have  felt 
about  some  young  person  cut  off  in  youth.  Here 
was  extraordinary  promise,  here  was  pitiful  blight. 
The  squire  had  observed  human  nature  in  many 
unusual  and  pathetic  situations,  here  was  the  most 
pathetic  of  all.  The  Hartmans  could  not  be  under 
stood. 

Then  the  squire,  glancing  at  David,  went  out  and 
closed  the  door  and  left  him  with  his  mother. 

In  dumb  confusion,  David  stood  by  the  great  bed. 
More  vaguely,  the  squire's  puzzle  was  his  also.  His 
mother  had  had  an  empty  life  —  it  should  not  have 
been  empty.  He  could  not  understand  her,  he  could 
not  understand  his  father.  They  had  put  him  away 
from  them.  The  old  resentful,  heart-breaking  misery 
came  back;  he  had  no  people,  he  had  no  one  who 
loved  him.  Then  resentment  faded  and  grief  filled 
him.  Like  a  lover,  refused,  rejected,  he  knelt  down 
beside  the  great  bed. 

"Oh,  mother!"  cried  David,  again  and  again. 
"Oh,  mother,  mother!"  Then  the  old,  unanswered, 
unanswerable  cry,  "Speak  to  me!" 

From  the  great  bed  came  no  sign.  David  rose 
presently  and  laid  back  the  cover  over  the  smiling 
lips  and  turned  the  light  low  and  went  down  to  join 
the  squire.  Composedly  he  made  plans  with  him  for 
the  funeral.  The  squire  announced  that  he  and 
Bevy  had  come  to  take  up  their  abode  unless  David 
wished  to  be  alone.  The  squire  looked  at  David, 


284  KATY  GAUMER 

startled.  In  the  last  year  David  had  grown  more 
than  ever  like  his  parents;  he  had  his  mother's 
features  and  his  father's  deep  gray  eyes  and  thickly 
curling  hair. 

"When  you  are  through  your  school,  you  must 
settle  down  in  Millerstown,"  said  the  squire.  "There 
ought  to  be  little  folks  here  in  this  house." 

David's  heart  leaped,  then  sank  back  to  its  place. 
He  had  cured  himself  of  Katy  Gaumer;  such  flashes 
were  only  meaningless  recollections  of  past  habit. 

"I  am  thinking  of  studying  law,"  he  told  the 
squire.  "That  will  keep  me  in  school  three  years 
more.  And  then  I  could  n't  practice  law  in  Millers- 
town." 

"The  Hartmans  are  not  lawyers,"  said  the  squire. 
"The  Hartmans  are  farmers.  You  would  have 
plenty  to  keep  you  busy,  David." 

If  old  habit  caused  David  to  look  for  Katy 
Gaumer,  David's  eyes  were  not  gratified  by  what 
they  sought.  Neither  before  his  mother's  funeral 
nor  afterward  did  she  appear.  Bevy  had  removed 
her  few  belongings  from  David's  room  before  he 
returned ;  there  remained  in  the  Hartman  house  no 
evidence  of  her  presence.  Bevy  said  that  Katy  was 
tired,  that  she  lay  all  day  on  the  settle  in  her  uncle's 
kitchen.  Bevy  longed  to  pour  out  to  David  an  ac 
count  of  Katy's  treatment  at  the  hands  of  Alvin 
Koehler,  prospective  church  member  though  he 
was.  But  she  had  been  forbidden  by  the  squire  to 
open  her  lips  on  the  subject;  and,  besides,  David 


KATY  GAUMER  285 

Hartman,  the  heir  to  all  this  magnificence,  could 
hardly  be  expected  to  take  an  interest  in  one  who 
had  demeaned  herself  to  become  his  mother's  serv 
ant.  Nevertheless,  a  wild  scheme  formed  itself  in 
Bevy's  mind. 

"Sometimes  Katy  cries,"  reported  Bevy  senti 
mentally  to  David.  "It  seems  as  though  this 
brought  back  everything  about  her  gran 'mom  and 
everything.  Yesterday  she  was  real  sick,  but  to-day 
she  complains  better  again.  Katy  has  had  a  good 
deal  of  trouble  in  this  world. " 

David  frowned.  He  was  going  back  to  college  in 
the  morning;  his  bag  was  already  packed.  Katy  had 
been  in  the  house  until  the  time  of  his  mother's 
death ;  she  should  have  asked  him  to  come  to  see  her. 
Old  habit  tempted  him  to  play  once  more  with  fire. 

"  I  would  like  to  see  Katy,"  he  said  now  to  Bevy. 

"Well!"  Bevy  faced  him  with  arms  akimbo,  her 
little  eyes  sparkling.  "  I  will  tell  Katy  that  she  shall 
come  here  once  this  evening." 

"No,"  answered  David,  who  had  got  beyond  the 
simple  ways  of  Millerstown.  "Ask  her  whether  I 
may  come  to  see  her  this  evening." 

"Of  course,  you  can  come  to  see  her!"  cried  Bevy. 
" 1  will  just  tell  her  you  are  coming." 

But  Bevy  returned  with  an  astonishing  message. 
Bevy  was  amazed  at  Katy's  temerity.  She  had 
planned  that  she  would  suggest  to  Edwin's  Sally 
that  she  and  Edwin  go  to  bed  and  leave  the  kitchen 
to  David  and  Katy. 


286  KATY  GAUMER 

"She  only  cried  and  said  you  should  not  come. 
Sally  said  I  must  leave  her  alone.  She  said  the  squire 
said  and  Edwin  said  that  Katy  must  be  left  alone. 
Katy  is  not  herself." 

In  June  David  returned  to  Millerstown  with 
trunks  and  boxes  to  stay  for  the  summer,  at  least. 
Upon  his  face  a  fresh  record  was  written.  He  looked 
older,  his  lips  were  more  firmly  set.  His  last  term 
had  been  easy;  he  had  permitted  himself  holidays; 
he  had  visited  New  York,  had  seen  great  ships,  had 
climbed  great  buildings,  had  learned,  or  thought 
that  he  had  learned,  that  money  can  buy  anything 
in  the  world.  He  had  talked  for  defiance'  sake  with 
the  pretty  girl  who  had  told  him  so  sweetly  long  ago 
that  the  college  town  was  glad  of  his  presence.  The 
pretty  girl  smiled  upon  him  even  more  sweetly;  it 
was  clear  to  David's  eyes  that  his  blunder  was 
nothing  to  her.  He  talked  to  other  girls;  it  was 
equally  clear  that  they  were  glad  to  forget  any 
blunders  of  the  past.  He  had  not  yet  made  up  his 
mind  what  he  would  do  with  this  great  world  which 
he  could  buy.  Its  evil  was  as  plain  to  him  as  its 
good,  but  he  meant  to  have  all  of  it.  It  was  as 
though  David  gathered  together  the  pipe  and  cards 
flung  into  the  tree-tops  from  the  Sheep  Stable. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  he  arrived  in 
Millerstown.  Main  Street  lay  quiet  and  golden  in 
the  sunshine.  It  was  supper  time  and  the  Millers- 
tonians  were  indoors.  Few  persons  saw  him  come, 
and  those  few  stood  in  too  great  awe  of  him  to 


KATY  GAUMER  287 

invite  him  to  their  houses.  He  met  Katy  Gaumer 
as  he  turned  the  corner  sharply,  and  Katy  gasped 
and  looked  at  him  somberly,  standing  still  in  a 
strange  way  to  let  him  pass.  She  answered  his 
greeting  without  lifting  her  head.  Old  habit  made 
David  grit  his  teeth. 

Upon  her  doorstep  sat  the  little  Improved  New 
Mennonite,  her  supper  finished.  She  was  prettier 
than  ever.  By  nature  a  manager,  she  had  reduced 
Alvin 's  financial  and  other  troubles  to  their  simplest 
terms,  and  there  was  now  hope  of  a  happy  issue 
from  them.  Alvin  himself,  though  at  peace,  was  not 
exactly  happy.  He  had  been  held  so  diligently  to 
his  work,  he  had  been  compelled  to  dress  so  plainly 
that  he  was  much  depressed  in  spirit.  Red  neckties 
were  now  anathema ;  masculine  adherents  of  the  sect 
of  the  Improved  New  Mennonites,  indeed,  abjured 
neckties  altogether,  and  Alvin  feared  that'  the  black 
one  to  which  he  was  reduced  would  presently  also  be 
taken  from  him.  In  her  practical  way  Essie  had  long 
since  decided  that  the  rented  house  in  the  village 
could  not  be  considered  as  an  abode,  but  that  the 
little  house  on  the  mountain-side  must  be  returned 
to. 

To  the  side  of  the  little  Mennonite  came  David 
when  he  had  opened  the  windows  of  his  house.  The 
place  was  desolate.  The  baffling  sense  of  his  mother's 
presence,  even  the  consciousness  of  his  father's,  so 
long  past,  were  intolerable.  He  would  not  endure 
this  discomfort.  He  was  young,  ought  to  have  hap- 


288  KATY  GAUMER 

piness,  would  have  it.  Essie  Hill  was  lovely  to  look 
at,  she  admired  him,  she  was  a  woman;  he  would  go 
and  talk  to  Essie.  He  wished  that  he  had  brought 
her  a  present,  but  he  could  order  one  for  her.  If  he 
stayed  in  Millerstown  this  summer  Essie  would  be  a 
pleasant  diversion. 

From  the  doorstep  Essie  looked  up  at  him.  Then, 
as  he  prepared  to  sit  down  beside  her,  she  drew 
away,  blushing  primly. 

11 1  am  going  to  be  married,"  said  she.  "  I  think  I 
ought  to  tell  you." 

David  grew  suddenly  pale.  If  a  pigeon  had  turned 
from  his  caress  to  attack  him  with  talons,  if  a  board 
from  his  walk  had  arisen  to  smite  him,  he  could  not 
have  been  more  astounded. 

" To  whom?"  said  he. 

"  I  am  going  to  marry  Alvin." 

"Alvin  who?"  asked  David,  bewildered. 
•"  Alvin  Koehler." 

Then  was  David's  pride  wounded!  He  wished 
Essie  well  with  a  steady  voice,  however,  and  went 
on  to  the  post-office  and  back  to  his  house  and  sat 
down  on  the  dark  back  porch.  How  he  hated  them 
all,  these  miserable  people,  but  how  he  hated  most 
of  all  Alvin  Koehler.  It  was  not,  he  remembered, 
the  first  time  that  Alvin  had  been  preferred  to  him. 
He  thought  again  of  William,  gibbering  and  praying 
in  the  corner  of  the  almshouse  garden.  God  had 
put  him  there.  It  was  a  proof  that  God  existed  that 
he  had  punished  Alvin's  father.  And  Alvin  should 


KATY  GAUMER  289 

be  punished,  too.  David  knew  of  the  mortgage 
among  his  father's  papers.  It  was  only  by  his 
father's  grace  that  the  Koehlers  had  been  allowed  to 
live  so  long  on  the  mountain-side.  That  house 
should  continue  in  their  possession  no  longer.  Other 
schemes  for  revenge  came  into  his  mind.  He  sat 
miserably,  his  head  buried  in  his  hands  as  though 
he  were  a  tramp  waiting  for  food  instead  of  the  heir 
of  the  house  come  home  to  take  possession. 

He  did  not  hear  the  sound  of  a  step  on  the  brick 
walk.  Suddenly,  a  girl  screamed  lightly  and  he 
lifted  his  head,  then  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"What  is  it?  "  he  cried  to  the  ghostly  figure.  "  Who 
are  you?" 

"I  did  n't  mean  to  scream,"  said  Katy  Gaumer. 
"I  did  n't  see  you  at  first  and  I  was  frightened.  I 
thought  it  was  some  stranger." 

"It  is  I,"  said  David,  gruffly.  Katy's  figure  had 
seemed  like  an  apparition  in  the  dim  light;  he  had 
been  horribly  startled. 

"I  want  to  see  you,  David,"  said  Katy,  hesitat 
ingly.  "  I  have  something  I  must  talk  to  you  about." 

"I'll  make  a  light  inside." 

"I'd  rather  talk  here,"  said  Katy.  "I'll  sit  here 
on  the  step.  I  don't  believe  any  one  will  come." 

David  offered  her  a  chair.  The  blood  was  pound 
ing  in  his  temples,  his  wrists  felt  weak. 

Katy  had  already  seated  herself  on  the  low  step. 
David  sat  on  a  chair  on  the  porch ;  he  could  see  her 
as  she  propped  her  elbows  on  her  knees  and  made  a 


2QO  KATY  GAUMER 

cup  for  her  chin  with  her  hands.  David  breathed 
deeply;  old  habit  was  reasserting  itself.  Then  he 
saw  that  Katy  was  trembling;  to  his  amazement  he 
heard  her  crying. 

"You  are  n't  well,  Katy!" 

"  Yes/'  said  Katy.  "  But  I  have  a  duty  to  do.  It 
is  hard.  It  nearly  kills  me." 

David's  thoughts  leaped  wildly  from  one  possi 
bility  to  another.  What  had  she  done?  What  could 
she  have  done?  Here  was  Katy  in  a  new  light,  weep 
ing,  distressed. 

"What  is  it,  Katy?  Don't  be  afraid  to  tell  me." 

"  I  am  afraid  to  tell  you."  Katy  turned  her  white 
face  toward  him.  "  But  I  must  tell  you.  It  has  been 
on  my  mind  day  and  night.  I  have  tried  to  think  of 
another  way,  but  I  cannot." 

"But  what  is  it?" 

"When  I  was  a  little  girl  and  lived  with  my 
grandfather  and  grandmother,  I  used  to  run  away, 
and  one  day  I  ran  away  to  the  church.  Alvin 
Koehler's  father  was  there  plastering  the  wall,  and 
I  watched  him,  and  after  a  while  I  went  to  sleep  in 
a  pew.  When  I  woke  up  Alvin's  father  was  gone, 
but  your  father  was  there,  David." 

David  gave  a  great  start. 

"You  cannot  say  anything  to  me  against  my 
father!" 

"But  I  must  tell  you,  David.  You  will  have  to 
decide  what  is  to  be  done.  I  have  n't  told  the  squire 
or  any  one,  but  you  must  know.  It  has  been  on  my 


KATY  GAUMER  291 

mind  all  this  time.  I  can't  rest  or  sleep  any  more.  I 
went  up  to  your  father  and  he  spoke  roughly  to  me, 
and  then  I  ran  out  and  went  home  to  my  grand 
mother.  She  laughed  at  me  and  said  your  father 
was  only  chasing  me  home  where  I  ought  to  be. 
After  a  while  I  believed  it.  Then  Alvin  Koehler's 
father  got  up  at  the  funeral  and  talked  about  the 
communion  set  and  I  did  n't  believe  such  a  thing 
for  a  minute,  not  a  minute.  Alvin  is  not  —  is  not  — 
very  honest  —  and  I  never  believed  it.". 

"You  did  n't  believe  what?"  said  David  with  a 
dry  throat.  "What  in  this  world  are  you  talking 
about?" 

"I  did  n't  believe  for  a  minute  that  your  father 
would  have  anything  to  do  with  taking  the  com 
munion  set.  I — " 

"He  did  n't  have  anything  to  do  with  it,"  cried 
David.  "What  nonsense  is  this?" 

Katy  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  She  went 
on  mechanically  as  though  she  had  prepared  what 
she  had  to  say. 

"Before  your  mother  died  and  the  preacher  came 
to  give  her  communion,  he  lifted  the  cup  high  in  the 
air  and  the  light  shone  on  it.  Then  I  remembered 
everything  that  I  had  forgotten,  how  I  had  run 
away  to  the  church  and  everything,  and  I  knew  that 
your  father  had  the  shining  cup  in  his  hand  when 
I  ran  up  to  him.  That  was  what  I  wanted  —  the 
shining  cup.  He  was  there  with  it  in  his  hand ;  it  is 
as  plain  as  if  it  were  now." 


292  KATY  GAUMER  : 

"I  do  not  believe  you!" 

To  this  Katy  returned  no  answer. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  it  long  ago?" 

"I  didn't  remember  this  part  till  that  night," 
said  Katy,  patiently.  "But  I  couldn't  come  and 
tell  you  then !  I  have  thought  over  this  and  prayed 
over  it.  If  I  could  bear  it  for  you,  I  would,  David. 
But  I  can't." 

"I  do  not  believe  you,"  said  David.  "You  im 
agined  it.  What  could  my  father  have  wanted  with 
the  communion  service?  What  could  he  have  done 
with  it?" 

"There  was  a  hole  in  the  wall  and  he  pushed  it  in 
quickly." 

"A  hole  in  the  wall!" 

"Alvin's  father  was  mending  the  wall.  There 
used  to  be  a  window  there.  I  asked  the  squire  about 
the  window.  Alvin's  father  was  closing  it  up." 

Into  David's  mind  came  a  sickening  recollection 
of  the  wild-eyed,  desperate  figure  which  had  risen 
to  shout  out  the  terrible  accusation. 
?  "I  do  not  believe  it,"  he  said  again.  "You  have 
always  helped  Alvin  Koehler.  You  helped  him  dis 
honestly  in  school.  You  are  trying  to  help  him 


now." 


Katy's  head  bent  a  little  lower  over  her  knees. 

"He  does  not  even  have  sense  enough  to  care  for 
you  or  to  be  grateful  to  you." 

Katy  rose  from  her  place  on  the  low  step.  With 
a  gasp  she  started  down  the  walk. 


KATY  GAUMER 


293 


"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?"  cried 
David,  hoarsely. 

"Nothing,"  answered  Katy. 

"You  are  going  now  to  tell  the  squire!" 

"No,"  said  Katy,  "I  am  not  going  to  tell  any 
one." 

"Then  why  did  you  come  here? "  David  followed 
her  to  the  gate.  "You  have  made  trouble,  you  are 
always  making  trouble.  If  you  are  not  going  to  do 
anything  about  it,  why  did  you  come  here?" 

"I  had  to  tell  you,"  insisted  Katy,  woefully. 
"Can't  you  see  that  I  had  to  tell  you?" 

"  It  is  not  true,"  said  David  again.  "  If  you  think 
I  will  do  anything  against  my  father's  name  you  are 
mistaken .  You  — ' ' 

But  Katy  had  gone.  He  heard  the  familiar  click 
of  the  gate,  he  heard  her  steps  quicken.  She  was 
running  away  as  from  a  house  of  plague. 

Then  David  hid  his  face  in  his  arms  and  sat  long 
alone  on  the  porch.  He  saw  his  father's  stern  face. 
His  father  had  gone  about  —  this  there  was  no  de 
nying  —  like  a  man  with  a  heavy  load  upon  his 
heart.  But  that  he  should  have  had  anything  to 
do  with  the  theft  of  a  communion  service,  that  he 
should  even  have  touched  it,  that  he,  himself,  know 
ing  the  truth,  should  have  allowed  another  to  be 
suspected  —  this  was  monstrous. 

With  rapid  step  David  went  up  and  down  the 
porch.  He  would  go  away  from  Millerstown  forever, 
that  was  certain.  He  would  sell  his  house,  his  farms ; 


294  KATY  GAUMER 

he  would  shake  the  dust  of  the  place  from  his  feet. 
But  first  he  would  clear  the  mind  of  Katy  Gaumer 
from  this  outrageous  suspicion  and  make  it  impossi 
ble  for  the  slander  to  travel  farther.  As  he  made  his 
plans,  he  stood  still  at  the  top  of  the  porch  steps, 
his  head  bent.  Then  he  lifted  his  head  with  a  sud 
den  motion.  There  was  for  an  instant  a  strangeness 
in  the  air,  a  sense  of  human  presence.  David  felt 
blessed  in  his  endeavor. 

A  few  moments  later  he  opened  the  door  of  the 
squire's  office. 

The  squire,  busy  with  his  favorite  occupation,  the 
planning  of  a  journey,  sat  with  his  feet  comfortably 
elevated  on  the  table.  He  let  his  chair  slam  to  the 
floor  and  came  forward  to  meet  his  guest. 

"Well,  David,  now  you  are  a  graduate!  Let  me 
look  at  you!  Now  you  are  to  stay  with  us.  Why, 
David!"  The  squire  stared  at  the  countenance  be 
fore  him.  "Are  you  in  trouble?" 

"Yes,"  answered  David. 

With  the  squire  in  his  chair  behind  the  desk,  him 
self  on  the  old  settle,  David  told  his  story. 

"Katy  Gaumer  came  to  the  house  this  evening 
and  told  me  a  strange  thing.  She  says  that  she  saw 
my  father  with  the  communion  cup  in  his  hand  the 
day  that  the  service  disappeared  from  the  church." 

"The  communion  cup?"  repeated  the  squire, 
startled  almost  out  of  his  wits.  "What  communion 
cup?" 

"The  one  that  disappeared." 


KATY  GAUMER  295 

The  squire  gasped. 

"Katy  saw  him!"  Here  was  Katy  again,  Katy 
who  had  seemed  to  them  all  to  be  such  a  promising 
child,  Katy  who  was  determined  to  go  away  to 
school,  Katy  who  helped  young  rascals  from  her 
poverty,  Katy  who  now  would  not  study,  who 
refused  to  do  anything  but  sit  dismally  about! 
"Katy  Gaumer,"  he  repeated.  "Our  Katy?" 

"  Yes,  Katy  Gaumer,"  said  David.  "She  says  she 
was  a  little  child  and  that  she  ran  away  from  her 
grandmother  to  the  church  and  saw  my  father  put 
the  silver  cup  into  a  hole  made  by  plastering  up  the 
window." 

"Impossible!"  cried  the  squire.  "Nonsense! 
Humbug!  The  girl  is  crazy.  It  could  n't  be!" 

David  looked  at  him  and  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"That  was  what  I  said.  Then  I  thought  of 
Koehler,  and  of  how  he  had  gone  mad,  and  I  knew 
my  father  would  wish  it  investigated." 

An  electric  shock  tingled  the  squire's  sensorium. 
He  remembered  the  contorted  face,  the  trembling 
hands,  the  terrible  earnestness  with  which  Koehler 
made  his  attack  upon  the  dead  man. 

"What  is  your  plan,  David?"  he  asked. 

"I  thought  we  might  get  the  key  of  the  church 
and  go  out  there  and  look  about.  It's  bright  moon 
light  and  I  believe  we  can  see  without  making  a 
light.  I  don't  believe  I  can  sleep  until  I  have  been 
out  there  and  have  looked  about.  I  suppose  we  will 
have  to  get  a  key  from  the  preacher." 


296  KATY  GAUMER, 

"  I  have  a  key,"  said  the  squire.  "  But  let  us  wait 
till  to-morrow,  David." 

"I  must  go  to-night,"  insisted  David. 

Only  once  were  words  exchanged  on  the  journey. 
The  two  men  went  out  the  village  street,  past 
Grandfather  Gaumer's,  where  a  hundred  sweet  odors 
saluted  them  from  the  garden  and  where  Katy  lay 
weeping  on  her  bed,  to  the  path  along  the  pike, 
between  the  open  fields. 

"You  knew  my  father,"  said  David.  "Such  a 
thing  could  not  have  been  possible." 

"I  knew  him  from  a  boy,"  answered  the  squire 
heartily  and  honestly.  "Such  a  thing  could  not  have 
been  possible." 

"  Had  Koehler  ever  made  this  accusation  before 
the  time  of  my  father's  funeral?  " 

"He  made  it  to  the  preacher  after  the  service 
disappeared,  but  the  preacher  told  him  he  must  be 
still." 

"Could  Koehler  have  had  any  motive  for  taking 
it  himself?" 

"  He  was  a  poor  man,"  answered  the  squire.  "  But 
he  was  simple  and  honest  —  all  the  Koehlers  were." 

"What  do  you  suppose  became  of  it?" 

"I  have  always  supposed  that  some  one  sneaked 
in  while  Koehler  was  away  for  a  minute.  A  tramp 
could  easily  have  walked  in." 

"  Did  my  father  never  say  that  he  had  been  in  the 
church  that  afternoon?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of." 


KATY  GAUMER  297 

The  church  door  opened  easily  and  quietly,  the 
church  was  dim  and  silent.  The  tall,  narrow  win 
dows,  fitted  with  clear  glass,  let  in  the  light  of  the 
moon  upon  the  high  pulpit,  the  oaken  pews,  the 
bare  floor.  The  pulpit  and  the  Bible  were  draped 
with  protecting  covers  of  white  which  made  the 
church  seem  more  ghostly  and  mysterious.  Katy 
Gaumer  in  certain  moods  would  have  been  en 
chanted. 

Together  the  two  men  looked  at  the.  smooth  wall 
beside  the  pulpit. 

"  It  does  n't  seem  as  if  that  wall  could  ever  have 
been  broken,"  said  David  in  a  low  voice.  "  Was  the 
window  there?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  squire.  ''There  was  a  win 
dow  there.  But  William  Koehler  was  a  fine  plasterer. 
The  window  went  almost  from  ceiling  to  floor." 

"We  would  have  to  have  a  pickaxe  and  other 
tools.  And  we  would  have  to  ask  for  permission  to 
open  it.  And  all  Millerstown  would  have  to  know," 
said  David. 

The  squire  pondered  for  an  instant.  "We  would 
if  we  opened  it  from  this  side.  But  the  Sunday 
School  is  built  against  the  other  side,  and  there 
there  is  only  a  little  thin  wainscoting  to  break 
through.  It  could  be  taken  out  and  put  back  easily. 
There  are  tools  here  in  the  church  somewhere." 

The  squire  returned  to  the  vestibule  and  opened 
the  door  of  a  cupboard. 

"Here  is  a  whole  basket  of  tools.  I  do  not  like  to 


298  KATY  GAUMER 

make  a  light  or  every  one  will  see.  Millerstown  is 
wonderful  curious."  The  squire's  light  tone  sounded 
strangely  in  the  silence  of  the  church,  strangely  to 
David  and  strangely  to  himself.  "  Don't  you  think, 
David"  —  the  squire  had  his  hand  on  the  knob  of 
the  Sunday-School  room  door — "  don't  you  think 
we  had  better  wait  till  to-morrow?" 

"No,"  answered  David. 

The  squire  passed  on  into  the  little  Sunday-School 
room  and  David  followed  him. 

"It's  brighter  here."  The  squire  measured  the 
wainscoting  with  his  eye.  "The  old  window  ought 
to  be  about  here.  Sit  down,  David." 

David  obeyed,  trembling. 

"I  don't  believe  I  could  open  it,"  said  he. 

"Of  course  not!"  answered  the  squire,  cheerfully. 
"  Do  not  worry,  David.  That  silver  has  been  melted 
this  long  time." 

The  squire  thrust  a  chisel  into  a  crevice  and  lifted 
out  a  section  of  wainscoting,  then  another.  When 
three  or  four  narrow  strips  were  removed,  he  thrust 
his  hand  into  the  aperture.  The  moonlight  grew 
brighter  as  the  moon  cleared  the  upper  boughs  of 
the  old  cherry  trees  outside  the  Sunday-School 
building;  it  shone  upon  a  curious  scene,  the  old  man 
at  his  strange  task,  the  young  man  watching  so 
eagerly. 

"There  can't  be  anything  here,"  said  the  squire, 
cheerfully.  There  can't  be.  This  might  just  as 
well  be  made  into  a  book  cupboard  for  the  Sunday 


KATY  GAUMER  c99 

School;  it  is  wasted  space.  It's  queer  we  never 
thought  of  that.  You  see  the  church  wall  is  four 
bricks  thick  here,  and  William's  wall  only  one  brick. 
It—11 

The  squire  ceased  suddenly  to  speak.  His  ex 
ploring  hand  had  only  now  reached  the  bottom  of 
the  deep  hole ;  it  came  into  contact  with  a  substance 
different  from  the  fallen  rubble  which  he  expected  to 
touch.  David  heard  his  voice  die  away,  saw  him 
start. 

"What  is  it,  sir?" 

"There  is  something  here,"  answered  the  squire. 

David  looked  at  the  yawning  hole  with  what 
courage  he  could  muster.  The  squire  thrust  in  his 
hand  a  little  deeper,  and  groped  about.  Then,  from 
the  pit  from  which  John  Hartman  might  have 
lifted  them  easily  had  not  all  thought  been  para 
lyzed,  he  drew  in  their  gray  bag  a  pitcher,  black 
with  tarnish,  and  a  silver  plate,  and  set  them  on 
the  floor  beside  him,  and  then  a  silver  chalice.  Still 
feeling  about,  he  touched  a  paper  and  that,  too,  he 
lifted  out  and  laid  on  the  floor  with  the  silver  vessels. 

Then,  silently,  he  and  David  looked  at  each  other. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   MYSTERY   DEEPENS 

FOR  a  long  time  neither  the  squire  nor  David  spoke 
or  moved.  David  sat  on  the  bench  where  he  had 
sat,  a  little  boy  at  Sunday  School,  and  the  squire 
remained  kneeling,  forgetting  his  aching  bones. 
When  sharp  pain  reminded  him  of  his  years  and  his 
rheumatism,  he  rose  and  sat  by  David  on  the  low, 
shallow  bench. 

"  I  can't  understand  it,"  said  he  again  and  again. 
"One  cannot  believe  it.  There  was  n't  any  motive. 
He  could  n't  have  wanted  to  steal  it  —  such  a  thing 
would  be  entirely  impossible.  He  was  already  rich ; 
he  was  always  well-behaved  from  his  childhood 
up." 

David  did  not  answer.  His  face  was  in  the  shadow, 
only  his  tightly  clasped  hands  were  illuminated  by 
the  bright  moonlight.  His  mind  was  confused,  he 
could  not  yet  co6rdinate  his  impressions.  There  was 
Katy  Gaumer's  story,  there  was  Koehler's  terrible 
accusation;  here  was  this  damning  proof  of  both. 
He  felt  again  that  rising,  protesting  pride  in  his 
father,  he  felt  a  sickening  unwillingness  to  go  on 
with  this  investigation,  which  seemed  to  mean  in 
his  first  confusion  only  an  intolerable  humbling  of 
himself  before  Alvin  Koehler,  the  effeminate,  the 


KATY  GAUMER  301 

smiling,  the  son  of  a  madman  and  a  thief.  jPoor 
David  groaned. 

At  once  the  squire  rose  with  a  troubled  sigh. 

"We'd  better  put  these  things  back  and  drive  in 
a  few  nails  to  hold  the  wainscoting.  We'll  surely 
meet  some  one  if  we  carry  them  into  town  and  then 
the  cat  would  be  out  of  the  bag." 

David  agreed  with  a  nod. 

"And  here  is  this  paper!"  The  squire  started. 
Perhaps  they  were  nearer  an  explanation  than  they 
thought.  "Put  it  in  your  pocket,  David." 

David  thrust  the  paper  into  his  pocket  with  a 
sort  of  sob.  The  squire  laid  the  precious  vessels  back 
on  the  rough  floor  of  the  little  pit  and  put  the  wain 
scoting  in  place.  A  few  light  taps  with  a  hammer 
and  all  was  smooth  once  more  as  it  had  been  for 
fifteen  years.  Then  he  led  the  way  into  the  dim 
church. 

"Come,  David!" 

David  did  not  answer.  He  had  sat  down  once 
more  on  the  low  bench.  His  thoughts  had  passed 
beyond  himself;  he  sat  once  more  beside  his  father's 
body  here  in  the  church.  He  experienced  again  that 
paralyzing  horror  of  death,  the  passionate  desire  to 
shield  his  poor  father  from  the  curious  eyes  of 
Millerstown,  his  rage  at  the  wild,  dusty  figure  in  the 
gallery.  He  remembered  William  Koehler  as  he  had 
seen  him  later  in  the  corner  of  the  poorhouse  garden, 
waving  his  arms,  struggling  like  some  frantic  crea 
ture  striving  to  break  the  bonds  which  held  him.  He 


302  KATY  GAUMER 

saw  the  face  of  Alvin,  empty,  dissatisfied,  vain.  He 
remembered  the  little  house,  its  poverty,  its  mean 
ness.  He  remembered  how  he  had  called  upon  God 
to  prove  Himself  to  him  by  punishing  Alvin 
Koehler's  father.  David  was  proud  no  more. 

"Come,  David!"  urged  the  squire  again,  return 
ing;  and  this  time  David  followed  him,  through  the 
church,  out  into  the  warm  June  night.  Cinder  was 
being  dumped  at  the  furnace,  the  sky  flushed  sud 
denly  a  rosy  red,  then  the  glow  faded,  leaving  only 
the  silvery  moonlight.  It  was  only  nine  o'clock; 
pleasant  sounds  rose  from  the  village,  the  laughter 
of  children,  the  voice  of  some  one  singing.  Millers- 
town  was  going  on  in  its  quiet,  happy  way.  At 
Grandfather  Gaumer's  all  was  dark ;  the  house  stood 
somberly  among  its  pine  trees;  the  garden  still 
breathed  forth  its  lovely  odors.  The  two  men  pro 
ceeded  into  the  little  office  of  the  squire,  and  there 
the  squire  lit  his  lamp  and  both  sat  down. 

Trembling,  David  drew  from  his  pocket  the  paper 
which  the  squire  had  found  with  the  silver  vessels. 
John  Hartman  had  expected  that  long  before  the 
silver  service  was  discovered  the  threatening  letter 
would  be  destroyed.  But  here  it  lay  in  his  son's 
hand,  its  fiber  intact.  It  had  caused  John  Hartman 
hideous  suffering ;  it  was  to  hide  it  that  he  had  given 
his  life's  happiness;  here  now  it  lay  in  the  hand  of 
David.  Slowly  David  unfolded  the  yellowed  sheet 
and  looked  at  it. 

The  squire,  startled  by  a  cry,  turned  from  the 


r  KATY  GAUMER  303 

door  he  was  locking  against  possible  intruders. 
David's  blond  head  lay  on  the  squire's  desk,  the 
paper  beside  it. 

"What  is  it,  David ?" 

David  held  out  the  paper,  his  face  still  hidden. 
The  squire  felt  for  his  spectacles,  his  hand  shaking. 
Here  now  was  the  explanation  of  this  strange  mys 
tery,  a  mystery  thought  to  be  forever  inexplicable. 
Why  had  John  Hartman  done  this  thing?  The 
squire  held  his  breath  in  suspense. 

But  the  squire  read  no  answer  to  his  questions. 
The  paper,  old  and  yellowed  and  flabby  to  the 
touch,  could  be  scrutinized  forever,  held  to  the  light, 
magnified,  but  it  told  nothing.  On  it  only  a  few 
words  were  legible,  a  portion  of  those  written  by 
John  Hartman  as  he  sat  by  the  roadside  in  his 
misery  long  ago. 

" My  dear  little  boy."  "My  poor  Cassie."  There 
was  one  fragment  of  a  sentence.  "What  shall  I  — " 
and  there  all  ended. 

The  squire  looked  at  the  paper  solemnly.  The 
mystery  had  only  thickened. 

"He  was  in  some  trouble,  poor  Hartman  was," 
said  he.  "He  was  in  great  trouble.  I  wish  he  had 
come  to  me  in  his  trouble."  Again  and  again  the 
squire  turned  the  paper  over  in  his  hand,  still  he 
found  nothing  but  the  few,  scattered  words. 

"I  think  I  will  ask  Katy  to  come  over,"  said  he. 
"Perhaps  she  can  remember  something  more  of 
this." 


304  KATY  GAUMER 

David  did  not  lift  his  head  to  answer;  he  did  not 
hear  what  the  squire  said.  He  tried  desperately  to 
control  himself,  to  decide  what  must  next  be  done. 
When  Katy  came  in  with  the  squire,  he  was  startled 
almost  out  of  his  senses  and  sprang  up  hastily.  Of 
all  the  ignominy  of  his  life  Katy  had  been  a  witness. 

Katy  had  not  gone  to  bed  to  stay,  but  had  only 
hurled  herself  down  once  more  upon  her  oft-used 
refuge.  It  was  evident  that  she  had  shed  many 
tears.  The  squire  drew  her  to  a  seat  beside  him  on 
the  settle  and  kept  hold  of  her.  It  was  always  natu 
ral  for  any  one  who  was  near  Katy  to  find  her  hand  or 
to  touch  the  curls  on  her  neck  or  to  make  her  more 
comfortable  with  one's  arm.  To  David,  as  she  sat 
by  the  squire,  she  was  an  impregnably  fortressed 
and  cruel  judge. 

Again  Katy  told  her  story  —  all  her  story,  her 
running  away,  her  talking  with  William  Koehler, 
her  falling  asleep,  her  sight  of  the  shining  cup. 

"You  say  he  pushed  it  in,  Katy?" 

"He  had  it  in  his  hand  and  he  dropped  it  in 
quickly.  Then  he  —  he  sent  me  away.  I  am  sure  I 
ought  not  to  have  been  in  the  church ;  it  was  all  right 
for  him  to  send  me  away.  I  remembered  it  all  but 
the  shining  cup.  If  gran'mom  was  alive,  she  could 
tell  you  how  I  came  running  home." 

"And  you  never  told  any  one?" 

"I  spoke  often  of  his  having  sent  me  home,"  ex 
plained  Katy.  "But  I  never  remembered  about  the 
shining  cup  until  the  preacher  came  to  see  David's 


KATY  GAUMER  305 

mother.  Then  I  could  n't  tell  David,  —  I  could  n't 
tell  him!  But  perhaps  it  is  n't  there;  perhaps  even 
if  he  had  the  cup  in  his  hand  he  had  n't  anything 
to  do  with  the  other;  perhaps  — " 

"The  silver  is  there,"  said  the  squire  sadly.  "We 
found  it  in  the  bottom  of  the  pit." 

"Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear!"  cried  Katy. 

David  looked  at  her  coldly.  She  sat  with  her 
curly  head  hidden  against  the  squire's  shoulder. 
David  wished  that  she  would  go,  that  she  would 
remove  herself  far  from  him,  forever.  He  had  suf 
fered  this  evening  to  the  limit  of  endurance. 

"You  did  your  duty,"  said  he  in  the  tone  learned 
at  college.  "You  need  n't  feel  any  further  respon 
sibility." 

Thus  propelled,  Katy  rose  and  checked  her  tears 
and  passed  out  of  the  squire's  office. 

When  she  had  gone,  David  took  up  his  burden 
manfully,  though  somewhat  savagely.  David  was 
proud  once  more,  but  the  pride  was  that  of  honor, 
not  of  haughtiness.  John  Hartman  had  had  a  code 
of  honor;  it  was  that  which  had  broken  his  heart. 
Millerstown  had  a  similar  code  of  honor.  By  in 
heritance  or  by  observation  had  David  learned  the 
way  of  a  just  man. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "we  will  find  Alvin." 

"To-night,  David?" 

"Yes,  to-night." 

"But  Alvin  will  know  nothing!" 

"But  we  will  find  Alvin." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  SQUIRE  AND  DAVID  TAKE  A  JOURNEY  BY  DAY 

DAVID  and  the  squire  had  not  gone  far  in  their 
search  for  Alvin  before  David's  mind  changed. 
He  did  not  care  to  seek  him  at  the  house  of  the  little 
Improved  New  Mennonite  or  to  ask  the  squire  to 
take  the  long  walk  to  Alvin 's  house  on  the  mountain 
side.  It  would  be  better  to  follow  the  squire's  sug 
gestion  and  wait  until  morning. 

"Then  we  will  drive  out  to  the  poorhouse  and  see 
Koehler  himself.  He  is  the  one  to  see.  You  'd  better 
stay  here  to-night  with  me." 

David  shook  his  head.  He  wished  to  be  alone; 
he  had  set  a  task  for  himself.  Perhaps  some  letter 
or  document  had  escaped  him  among  those  in  his 
father's  safe,  some  letter  or  document  which  could 
throw  light  on  the  strange  past. 

But  David  found  nothing.  He  entered  again  into 
his  great  house,  locked  its  doors,  and  opened  the 
iron  safe.  There  he  read  through  ledgers  and  day 
books  and  mortgages  and  deeds  in  vain.  He  found 
nothing  but  the  orderly  papers  of  a  careful  business 
man.  He  looked  again  at  the  letter  upon  which  the 
secret  had  been  written,  he  held  it  up  between  him 
and  the  lamp,  but  the  original  writing  was  gone  for 
ever.  It  had  been  a  letter,  —  of  that  there  was  no 


KATY  GAUMER  307 

doubt,  —  his  father's  writing  followed  the  spaces 
of  a  margin,  but  the  text  of  the  letter  was  gone. 

In  the  morning  the  two  men  drove  out  the  coun 
try  road  to  the  almshouse.  The  fields  were  green, 
wild  roses  and  elder  were  in  bloom,  the  air  was 
sweet.  A  man  could  ask  nothing  better  of  fate  than 
to  be  given  a  home  and  work  in  such  a  spot. 

"They  say  Koehler  has  grown  quieter,"  said  the 
squire.  "  He  does  n't  rave  and  pray  this  long  time." 

David  did  not  answer.  If  another  had  visited  such 
shame  upon  him,  it  would  have  been  a  long  time 
before  he  would  have  grown  quiet.  David  was  now 
pale,  now  scarlet;  he  moistened  his  lips  as  though  he 
were  feverish.  Reparation  must  be  made,  but  what 
adequate  reparation  could  be  offered?  Of  money 
there  was  plenty,  and  Alvin,  alas !  could  be  satisfied 
with  money ;  Alvin  would  probably  never  understand 
the  awful  hurt  which  had  been  done  him.  But  his 
father  —  how  could  reason  be  returned  to  him? 

In  his  corner  in  the  almshouse  garden  they  found 
William.  The  almshouse  was  a  pleasant  place  with 
shady  lawns  and  comfortable  porches  upon  which 
old  men  could  smoke  their  pipes  and  old  women 
could  sit  knitting  or  shelling  peas,  or  helping  in  other 
ways  with  the  work  for  the  large  family.  William 
Koehler  never  sat  with  the  rest.  He  worked  all  day 
and  then  went  back  to  his  room  like  any  self-respect 
ing  laborer.  He  was  disinclined  to  speak;  he  was 
happiest  on  long,  sunny  days  when  he  could  be  in 
the  garden  from  dawn  till  twilight. 


308  KATY  GAUMER 

Now  he  was  on  his  knees,  weeding  his  cabbage 
plants.  Another  man  would  have  done  the  work 
quickly  with  a  hoe,  but  not  so  William.  The  delight 
ful  labor  lasted  longer  if  he  pulled  each  weed  by 
hand.  Frequently  he  paused,  to  press  down  the  soil 
a  little  more  solidly  about  the  roots  of  a  plant  or  to 
say  what  sounded  like  an  encouraging  word.  Thus 
had  he  been  accustomed  to  talk  to  his  chickens  and 
his  bees. 

When  the  squire  and  David  approached,  he 
looked  up  from  his  work  with  a  frown.  At  David  he 
merely  glanced;  at  the  squire  he  stared.  When 
he  recognized  him,  he  smiled  faintly  and  rose  from 
his  knees. 

"Well,  William,"  said  the  squire,  cheerfully.  "  Do 
you  know  me?" 

"To  be  sure  I  know  you." 

"Come  over  here  and  sit  down,  William." 

"  I  am  very  busy  this  morning,"  objected  William, 
uneasily. 

He  answered  the  squire  in  Pennsylvania  German. 
The  years  which  had  almost  anglicized  Millerstown 
had  had  no  educating  effect  upon  the  residents  of 
the  county  home. 

"But  I  want  to  talk  to  you  a  little." 

The  squire  took  him  in  a  friendly  way  by  the  arm, 
at  which  an  expression  of  terror  came  into  William's 
eyes,  and  he  jerked  away  from  the  squire's  grasp. 

"I  will  come,"  he  promised.  "But  I  will  come 
myself." 


iKATY  GAUMER  309 

The  squire  led  the  way  across  the  lawn  to  the 
shade  of  a  great  tree  where  two  benches  were  placed 
at  right  angles.  Upon  one  the  squire  and  David  sat 
down,  upon  the  other  William.^  The  line  between 
William's  eyes  deepened,  his  lips  trembled,  he 
pressed  his  hands,  palm  to  palm,  between  his  knees. 
The  squire  and  David  looked  at  each  other.  The 
squire,  too,  had  grown  pale;  he  shook  his  head 
involuntarily  over  the  task  which  they  were  begin 
ning.  He,  too,  had  had  a  share  in  William's  con 
demnation,  as  had  all  Millers  town.  The  squire  felt 
helpless.  He  remembered  the  mocking  boys,  the 
scornful,  incredulous  people ;  he  recalled  the  gradual 
taking  away  of  William's  business  by  the  new  mason 
whom  Millerstown  imported  and  encouraged.  The 
squire  thought  as  David  had  of  the  years  that  could 
never  be  returned,  of  the  reason  which  could  never 
be  restored.  He  took  a  long  time  to  begin  what  he 
had  to  say.  When  William  half  rose  as  though  to 
escape  back  to  his  garden,  the  squire  came  to  him 
self  and  his  duty  with  a  start. 

"  William,  do  you  remember  anything  about  the 
window  that  you  plastered  shut  in  the  church  and 
about  the  communion  set?" 

William  lifted  his  hands,  then  joined  them  on 
his  breast.  He  shook  now  as  with  palsy.  David, 
watching  him,  looked  away  to  hide  his  tears.  David 
was  young,  the  wreck  of  William  Koehler  seemed 
a  unique,  horrible  case. 

Presently  William  answered  in  a  low  voice. 


310  KATY  GAUMER 

"God  told  me  to  be  quiet.  I  prayed  and  prayed 
and  God  told  me  to  be  quiet.  I  am  quiet  now." 

"But,  William,  you  must  tell  us  what  you  can 
remember.  It  will  be  for  your  good." 

William  opened  his  arms  in  a  wild  gesture,  then 
clasped  his  hands  again. 

"A  voice  told  me  to  forget  it.  I  prayed  till  I 
heard  a  voice  telling  me  to  be  quiet.  You  are  tempt 
ing  me !  You  are  tempting  me  to  disobey  God.  God 
said  to  be  quiet  about  it! "  He  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands  and  began  to  weep  aloud  in  a  terrible  way. 

David  crossed  the  little  space  between  them  and 
sat  down  beside  him. 

"You  did  n't  take  the  communion  set,"  he  said. 
"We  know  you  did  n't  take  it." 

William  Koehler  drew  his  hands  away  from  his 
eyes  and  looked  round  at  the  young  face  beside  him. 
Some  tone  of  the  voice  startled  him. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  asked  in  astonishment.  As 
he  put  the  question  he  moved  slowly  and  cautiously 
away,  as  though  he  planned  to  flee.  "What  do  you 
mean  to  do  with  me?" 

Together  David  and  the  squire  rose.  It  was  clear 
that  William  had  heard  as  much  as  he  could  endure. 
His  hands  twitched,  his  eyes  were  as  wild  as  any 
lunatic's. 

"  It  does  n't  make  any  difference  who  I  am,"  said 
David,  steadily.  "You  are  to  remember  that  all  the 
people  know  you  did  not  take  the  communion  set. 
You  are  to  think  of  that  all  the  time." 


KATY  GAUMER  311 

Again  William  began  to  weep,  but  in  a  different 
way. 

" I  cannot  think  of  it,"  he  sobbed.  "God  told  me 
not  to  think  of  it.  God  told  me  to  forgive  him.  I 
have  forgiven  him." 

As  the  squire  and  David  drove  through  the  gate, 
William  was  kneeling  once  more  among  his  cabbages. 
Sometimes  he  stopped  and  rubbed  his  head  in  a 
puzzled  way,  then  his  hands  returned  to  caress  the 
young  plants. 

Almost  silently  the  two  men  drove  back  to  Millers- 
town  and  up  to  the  little  white  house  on  the  moun 
tain  road.  Standing  before  the  door,  David  saw 
once  more  its  littleness,  its  meanness.  It  seemed  as 
though  it  could  never  have  been  altogether  .proof 
against  the  storms  of  winter.  Looking  back  at  his 
own  great  mansion  among  the  trees  he  shivered. 
Imagination  woke  within  him;  he  comprehended 
something  of  the  lonely  misery  of  poor  William.  It 
was  a  salutary  though  dreadful  experience  for  David. 

Alvin  answered  their  knock  at  once.  In  a  half 
hearted,  inefficient  way  he  was  trying  to  put  the 
house  into  habitable  condition.  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  thought  with  respect  of  his  father  and 
of  his  father's  work.  His  father  could  have  applied 
the  needed  plaster  and  boards  skillfully  and  quickly. 

When  Alvin  saw  who  stood  without  he  looked 
at  them  blankly.  The  difference  between  his  worn 
clothes  and  David's  fine  apparel  hurt  him.  He  was 
always  afraid  of  the  squire.  Together  the  three  sat 


312  KATY  GAUMER 

down  on  the  porch.  Here  David  was  the  spokesman. 
To  him  the  squire  listened  with  admiration  and 
respect. 

"Alvin,  the  communion  service  has  been  found." 

Alvin  looked  at  them  more  blankly  than  ever. 
The  affair  of  the  communion  service  belonged  to  the 
dim  past;  since  he  had  thought  of  the  communion 
service  he  had  been  away  to  school,  and  had  been 
educated  and  jilted,  and  cruelly  maltreated  by  Bevy 
Schnepp,  and  had  become  engaged  once  more.  It 
was  a  long  time  before  Alvin  could  remember  the 
very  close  relation  he  bore  to  the  communion  serv 
ice.  When  he  remembered,  his  heart  sank.  He 
recalled  clearly  his  father's  trying,  desperate  appeal 
on  Christmas  Day  so  long  ago.  Had  they  come  to 
make  him  pay  for  his  father's  theft? 

"Your  father  insisted  that  my  father  had  been  in 
the  church  and  had  taken  it,"  explained  David. 

"I  never  believed  it,"  cried  Alvin  at  once.  He 
was  now  terrified.  Were  they  going  to  make  him 
suffer  for  his  father's  madness.  "  I  never  believed  it ! 
Pop  could  never  get  me  to  believe  it,"  he  assured 
them  earnestly. 

"But  it  is  true,  Alvin,"  insisted  David.  "Your 
father  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  He  spoke  the  truth 
when  he  said  that  he  knew  nothing  about  it.  A  great 
wrong  was  done  your  father.  I  want  to  try  to  make 
part  of  it  right  with  you  and  him." 

Alvin  gaped  at  them.  It  was  difficult  to  compre 
hend  this  amazing  offer. 


KATY  GAUMER  313 

"I  have  been  to  see  your  father,  Alvin,"  David 
went  on.    "I  hope  you  will  forgive  my  father  and 


me." 


David  spoke  steadily.  The  request  was  easy  to 
make  now ;  even  greater  humbling  of  himself  would 
have  been  easy. 

Alvin  responded  in  his  own  way.  He  remembered 
his  long  poverty,  his  lack  of  the  things  he  wanted, 
the  cruel  price  he  had  had  to  pay  for  his  first  beauti 
ful  red  necktie. 

"  My  father  spent  a  great  deal  of  money  for  detec 
tives,"  he  said,  ruefully. 

"That  will  be  restored  to  him,"  said  David. 
"Everything  that  I  can  do,  I  will  do,  Alvin." 

When  their  errand  was  made  perfectly  clear  to 
Alvin,  he  was  terrified  again,  now  by  his  good  for 
tune.  He  was  to  have  money,  money  to  do  what  he 
liked  with,  more  money  than  he  actually  needed! 
The  mortgage  was  to  be  destroyed  —  the  mention  of 
that  instrument  had  alarmed  him  for  the  moment. 
Was  he  only  to  be  relieved  of  a  burden  of  whose 
existence  he  had  been  to  this  time  unaware?  But 
there  was  more  to  come !  The  sum  his  father  had 
spent  was  to  be  guessed  at  liberally  and  was  to  be 
put  on  interest  for  his  father's  support,  and  Alvin 
himself  was  to  have  recompense. 

" Do  you  like  teaching?"  asked  David.  "  Is  there 
anything  you  would  rather  do?" 

Alvin  clasped  his  hands  as  though  to  assure  him 
self  by  physical  sensation  that  he  was  awake  and 


314  KATY  GAUMER 

that  the  words  he  heard  were  real.  He  cherished  no 
malice,  hoarded  no  hatred  —  that  much  could  be 
said  for  Alvin  who  failed  in  many  other  ways. 

"Oh,  how  I  would  like  to  have  a  store!"  he  cried. 
"  If  I  could  borrow  the  money  from  you  to  have  a 
store,  a  store  to  sell  clothes  and  shoes  and  such 
things !  I  do  not  like  teaching.  I  am  not  a  teacher. 
The  children  are  naughty  all  the  time  for  me.  I  — " 
Suddenly  Alvin  halted.  No  more  in  this  world  could 
he  go  his  own  sweet  way;  liberty  now  offered  was 
already  curtailed.  A  fixed  star  controlled  now  the 
steady  orbit  of  his  life.  His  bright  color  faded.  "We 
would  better  talk  to  her  about  it,"  said  he. 

David  Hartman  forgot  for  an  instant  the  Penn 
sylvania  German  idiom.  It  is  an  evidence  of  the 
monogamous  nature  of  the  true  Pennsylvania  Ger 
man  that  the  personal  pronoun  of  the  third  person, 
used  alone,  applies  but  to  one  human  being. 

"To  her?"  repeated  David,  puzzled. 

"Yes,  to  Essie  Hill.  I  am  going  to  be  married  to 
Essie  Hill.'*  Alvin  rose.  "  Perhaps  we  could  go  down 
there,"  he  proposed  hesitatingly. 

Together  the  trio  went  down  the  mountain  road. 
The  squire  drove  the  buggy,  Alvin  and  David 
walked.  The  squire  kept  ahead,  so  that  the  curtains 
on  the  back  of  the  buggy  sheltered  him  from  the 
view  of  his  companions.  Thus  hidden,  he  laughed 
until  the  buggy  shook.  To  the  squire  Alvin  could 
never  be  a  tragic  figure ;  he  belonged  on  the  stage  of 
comedy  or  broad  farce. 


KATY  GAUMER  315 

When  the  squire  reached  the  house  of  the  preacher 
of  the  Improved  New  Mennonites,  he  dismounted, 
tied  his  horse,  and  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  young 
men.  Then  the  three  went  in  on  the  board  walk  to 
the  kitchen,  where  Essie  was  singing,  "They  ask  us 
why  we  're  happy."  Again  the  squire's  face  quivered. 

Essie  received  her  three  guests  in  her  calm,  com 
posed  way.  She  put  the  interesting  scallops  on  the 
edge  of  her  cherry  pie  with  a  turn  of  her  thumb,  and 
invited  the  three  gentlemen  to  have  seats.  Essie  was 
neither  an  imaginative  nor  an  inquisitive  person. 
Her  life  was  ordered,  her  thoughts  did  not  circle  far 
beyond  herself.  The  tragedy  suggested  by  the  juxta 
position  of  these  three  persons  did  not  occur  to  her. 
She  sat  primly  with  her  hands  folded  and  heard  her 
visitors  for  their  cause.  Her  eyes  narrowed  as  she 
listened  to  David's  statement  of  Alvin's  desire  for 
a  store.  It  was  true  that  Alvin  did  not  like  teaching, 
was  not  a  success  as  a  teacher.  Essie  had  intended 
to  think  out  some  other  way  for  him  to  earn  the 
family  living.  Selling  fine  clothes  would  not  be  a  sin 
like  wearing  them;  indeed,  one  could  preach  a  ser 
mon  by  refraining  from  what  was  so  near  at  hand 
and  so  tempting.  That  such  a  policy  might  be  dam 
aging  to  the  family  pocketbook,  Essie  did  not  realize 
for  the  moment.  Essie  was  always  most  anxious 
that  the  sermon  should  be  preached.  Millerstown, 
however,  fortunately  for  Alvin's  success  as  a  haber 
dasher,  was  set  in  its  iniquity  as  far  as  the  wearing 
of  good  clothes  was  concerned. 


316  KATY  GAUMER 

"  I  think  it  would  be  a  very  good  thing  for  Alvin 
to  have  a  store,"  said  she. 

"I  want  to  do  everything  I  can  to  make  up  for 
the  past,"  explained  David.  "I  can't  make  it  right 
entirely.  I  wish  I  could." 

To  Essie  the  balancing  of  accounts  always  ap 
pealed. 

"That  is  right,"  said  she. 

"But  there  is  Alvin's  father,"  David  went  on. 
"We  cannot  leave  him  where  he  is  if  he  can  be  per 
suaded  to  come  away.  He  does  n't  understand  yet 
that  we  have  discovered  that  he  was  not  guilty,  but 
we  hope  he  may." 

Essie  answered  without  pause.  Essie  had  as  clear 
an  idea  of  her  own  duty  as  she  had  of  other  people's 
—  a  rather  uncommon  quality. 

"We  will  take  him  home  to  us,"  said  she. 

When  the  interview  was  over,  David  went  with 
the  squire  to  partake  of  Bevy's  dinner.  The  squire 
and  his  two  companions  had  not  been  unobserved 
in  their  progress  through  Millerstown.  Sarah  Ann 
Mohr,  on  her  way  to  David's  house  with  a  loaf  of 
fresh  bread  and  a  Schwenkfelder  cake  and  two  pies 
and  a  mess  of  fresh  peas  from  her  garden  and  with 
great  curiosity  in  her  kindly  heart  about  David's 
future  movements,  saw  the  three,  and  stood  still  in 
her  tracks  and  cried  out,  "Bei  meiner  Sex!"  which 
meaningless  exclamation  well  expressed  the  confu 
sion  of  her  mind.  When  they  vanished  into  Essie's 
kitchen,  she  cried  out,  "  What  in  the  world ! "  —  and, 


KATY  GAUMER  317 

basket  in  hand,  plates  rattling,  instant  destruction 
threatening  her  pies,  she  flew  back  to  the  house  of 
Susannah  Kuhns.  Susannah  hurried  to  the  house 
of  Sarah  Knerr,  and  together  all  sought  Bevy,  as 
the  only  woman  connected  with  any  of  the  three 
men.  Other  Millerstonians  saw  them  assembled  and 
the  conference  grew  in  numbers. 

"The  squire  and  David  and  Alvin  Koehler  to 
gether  at  the  Mennonite's!"  cried  Susannah. 

"  Perhaps  he  is  to  marry  her  and  Alvin,"  suggested 
a  voice  at  the  edge  of  the  crowd. 

"David  used  to  sit  with  her,  too,  sometimes," 
Sarah  Knerr  reminded  the  others.  "Perhaps  there 
is  trouble  and  it  will  give  a  court  hearing." 

"Humbug!"  cried  Bevy.  "You  don't  know  any 
thing  about  it !" 

Bevy,  of  course,  knew  nothing  about  it  either. 

Almost  bursting  with  curiosity,  Bevy  made  her 
noodle  soup.  It  was  only  because  she  was  not  a  lit 
erary  person  that  the  delicious  portions  of  dough 
which  gave  the  soup  its  name  were  not  cut  into 
exclamation  points  and  question  marks.  Bevy  was 
suffering;  when  the  squire  brought  David  home  with 
him,  her  uneasiness  became  distressing  to  see.  Pres 
ently  she  was  thrown  into  a  state  bordering  on 
insanity. 

David  laid  down  his  fork  and  looked  across  the 
table  at  her  restless  figure. 

"Bevy,"  said  he  in  an  ordinary  tone,  "the  com 
munion  set  has  been  found." 


3i8  KATY  GAUMER 

"What!"  screamed  Bevy. 

All  her  speculations  had  arrived  at  no  such  won 
derful  conclusion  as  this.  The  squire  looked  startled ; 
he  had  wondered  how  the  report  would  first  reach 
Millerstown. 

"Did  Koehler  tell?"  demanded  Bevy.  "Did  he 
tell  where  he  put  it?  Is  it  any  good  yet?  Will  they 
use  it?  Did  you  come  to  it  by  accident?  Did  — " 
Bevy's  breath  failed. 

"Koehler  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  said  David. 
"My  father  put  it  into  the  hole  made  by  plastering 
up  the  window  in  the  church.  There  it  lay  all  these 
years." 

"He  never  meant  to  take  it!"  screamed  Bevy. 

"No,"  agreed  David;  " I  do  not  believe  he  meant 
to  take  it." 

" What  did  he  mean?" 

"I  do  not  know." 

"Does  n't  anybody  know?" 

"Nobody  knows,"  interposed  the  squire.  "Now, 
Bevy,  get  the  pie." 

Immediately  Bevy  started  for  her  kitchen.  When 
after  a  few  minutes  she  had  not  reappeared,  the 
squire  followed  her.  The  kitchen  was  empty,  no 
Bevy  was  to  be  seen;  but  from  across  the  yard  a 
loud  chattering  issued  from  Edwin's  Sally's  kitchen. 

In  the  evening  the  squire  and  the  preacher  came 
and  sat  with  David  on  his  porch.  The  communion 
set  had  been  taken  from  its  hiding-place  and  the 
preacher's  wife  had  polished  it  until  it  was  once 


KATY  GAUMER  319 

more  bright  and  beautiful.  Millerstown  dropped  in 
by  twos  and  threes  to  behold  it,  each  with  his  own 
eyes.  The  squire  and  the  preacher  and  David  talked 
about  many  things  of  interest  to  Millerstown  and 
to  the  world  at  large.  When  the  two  men  went  away 
together,  they  said  that  David  had  astonished  them. 

Later  in  the  evening  another  man  entered  the 
gate  and  came  up  to  the  porch.  Oliver  Kuhns,  the 
elder,  sat  down  in  the  chair  which  the  squire  had  left. 

"I  heard  a  strange  thing  to-day,"  said  he,  bro 
kenly.  "I  cannot  understand  it.  When  I  was  in 
great  trouble,  your  father  helped  me.  If  you  want  I 
shall  tell  Millerstown,  I  will.  I  took  my  money  when 
my  father  died  and  went  to  New  York  and  bad  peo 
ple  got  me,  and  when  I  came  home  to  my  wife  and 
little  children,  I  had  nothing.  Your  father  lent  it  to 
me  so  she  should  not  find  it  out,  and  he  would 
never  take  it  again." 

"He  would  not  want  you  to  tell  Millerstown," 
said  David. 

As  Oliver  Kuhns,  the  elder,  went  out  the  gate, 
Jacob  Fackenthal  came  in.  He  would  not  sit  down. 

"Your  pop  saved  me  from  jail,  David,"  said  he. 
"Anything  I  can  do  for  you,  I  will.  Nobody  in 
Millerstown  believes  that  he  meant  to  take  the 
communion  set.  If  you  will  stay  in  Millerstown, 
Millerstown  will  show  you  what  it  thinks." 

After  a  long  time  David  went  into  the  great  house, 
through  the  front  door,  up  the  broad  stairway  to 
the  handsome  room  which  he  had  selected  for  his 


320  KATY  GAUMER 

own.  He  could  not  understand  his  mother  and 
father;  still,  in  a  measure,  they  put  him  away  from 
them.  Dimly  he  comprehended  their  tragedy,  error 
on  one  side,  refusal  to  forgive  on  the  other,  and 
heartbreak  for  both.  He  thought  long  of  his  father 
and  mother.  But  when  he  went  to  sleep,  he  was 
thinking  of  William  Koehler  and  his  son  Alvin  and 
planning  the  fitting-out  of  a  little  store  and  the 
planting  of  a  garden  and  the  purchasing  of  a  flock 
of  chickens  and  several  hives  of  bees.  Old  ghosts 
were  laid,  old  unhappinesses  forgotten;  from  David's 
consciousness  there  had  vanished  even  Katy  Gau- 
mer,  who  in  a  strange  way  had  brought  him  a 
blessing.  t 


CHAPTER  XXII 

KATY  IS  TO  BE  EDUCATED  AT  LAST 

Two  months  passed  before  Millerstown  settled 
down,  from  the  excited  speculation  which  followed 
Katy  Gaumer's  flash  of  memory  and  its  remarkable 
effects,  into  its  usual  level  of  excitement.  Millers- 
town  was  usually  excited  over  something.  By  the 
end  of  two  months  Sarah  Ann  and  Bevy  and 
Susannah  Kuhns  had  ceased  to  gather  on  one  an 
other's  porches  or  in  one  another's  houses  to  discuss 
the  strange  Hartmans.  By  the  end  of  three  months 
all  possible  explanations  had  been  offered,  all  possi 
ble  questions  answered,  or  proved  unanswerable. 
Had  Cassie  known  of  the  hiding-place  of  the  silver 
service?  Had  Cassie  died  of  a  broken  heart?  Did 
persons  ever  die  of  broken  hearts?  Why,  and  again 
why,  why,  why,  did  John  Hartman  push  the  silver 
service  into  the  hole?  And  why,  having  pushed  it  in, 
did  John  Hartman  not  take  it  out?  Why  had  not 
Katy  remembered  the  strange  incident  long  before 
this? 

"My  belief  is  it  was  to  be  so,"  said  Susannah 
Kuhns,  a  vague  conclusion  which  Millerstown 
applied  to  all  inexplicable  affairs. 

In  all  their  speculations,  no  one  ever  thought  of 
John  Hartman  or  alluded  to  John  Hartman  as  a 


322  KATY  GAUMER 

thief.  For  once,  Millerstown  accepted  the  incom 
prehensible.  Of  the  sad  causes  of  John  Hartman's 
behavior  Millerstown  knew  nothing,  could  never 
know  anything. 

Sarah  Ann,  being  more  tender-hearted  than  the 
rest,  and  seeing  a  little  more  deeply  into  the  lives 
of  her  fellow  men  and  women,  thought  longest  about 
the  Hartmans.  Sarah  Ann's  husband  had  been  a  disa 
greeable  and  parsimonious  man  and  Sarah  Ann  knew 
something  of  the  misery  of  a  divided  hearthstone. 
She  often  laid  down  the  Millerstown  "Star,"  fasci 
nating  as  it  was  with  its  new  stories,  of  a  man  driven 
by  house  cleaning  to  suicide  in  a  deep  well,  of  a  dog 
which  spoke  seven  words,  or  of  a  snake  creeping 
up  a  church  aisle,  and  took  off  her  spectacles  and 
thought  of  the  Hartmans  and  of  the  Koehlers  and  of 
Katy  Gaumer's  strange  part  in  their  affairs. 

Millerstown  was  not  entirely  deprived  of  subject- 
matter  by  its  exhaustion  of  the  Hartman  mystery. 
David  Hartman  had  employed  a  housekeeper  and 
had  opened  his  great  mansion  from  top  to  bottom. 
All  Millerstown  walked  past  during  the  first  few 
days  of  his  occupancy  to  see  whether  it  was  true 
that  there  were  lights  in  the  parlor  and  that  the 
squire  and  the  preacher  went  in  and  out  the  front 
door  to  visit  David.  David  had  been  carefully 
inspecting  his  orchards  and  farms,  had  visited  again 
the  land  on  the  mountain-side  with  its  double 
treasure.  David  had  brought  his  riding-horse  to 
Millerstown  and  Millerstown  flew  once  more  to 


KATY  GAUMER  323 

doors  and  windows  to  see  him  pass.  David  consulted 
with  his  farmers ;  David  asked  a  thousand  questions 
of  the  squire;  David  was  busy  from  morning  till 
night. 

"And  David  is  nice  and  common/'  boasted  Bevy 
Schnepp,  who  behaved  as  though  she  were  David's 
mother  and  grandmother  and  maiden  aunt  in  one. 
"He  is  never  proud;  you  would  never  know  he  was 
so  rich  and  educated." 

David  had  gone  himself  in  midsummer  to  bring 
William  Koehler  home  to  his  house  on  the  mountain 
side.  William  seemed  to  understand  now  the  start 
ling  information  brought  him  by  the  squire  and 
David.  At  last  he  realized  who  David  was,  and  all 
the  kindliness  of  his  intentions.  As  he  drove  up  the 
street,  his  old  neighbors  came  out  with  pitying  looks 
to  speak  to  him  and  at  his  home  his  daughter-in-law 
received  him  with  her  placid  kindness. 

An  addition  had  been  built  to  the  little  house,  but 
otherwise  all  was  as  it  had  been.  The  garden  had 
been  restored,  onions  and  peas  and  tomatoes  had 
been  planted,  though  July  was  at  hand,  so  that 
William  might  find  immediate  occupation.  Back  in 
the  chicken  house  were  cheerful  duckings  and  crow- 
ings,  and  about  the  hives  the  bees  buzzed  as  of  old. 

At  first  William  tended  his  garden  and  sat  on  the 
porch  in  the  sunshine  and  was  satisfied  and  happy. 
Then  he  grew  restless;  the  line  deepened  again  in 
his  forehead.  It  was  plainly  to  be  seen  that  all  was 
not  right  with  William. 


324  KATY  GAUMER 

But  all  was  made  right.  One  afternoon  Sarah 
Ann  Mohr  put  on  her  sunbonnet  and  donned  a 
white  apron  over  her  immaculate  gingham  one  and 
took  a  basket  on  her  arm  and  an  umbrella  in  her 
hand,  to  be  used  now  for  sunshade,  now  for  staff, 
and  climbed  the  mountain  road.  She  talked  with 
William  and  gave  Essie  a  little  housewifely  advice 
about  the  making  of  soap,  in  which  occupation  Essie 
was  engaged ;  she  emptied  her  basket,  then  she  rose 
to  go. 

"William,"  said  Sarah  Ann,  "I  have  a  little  plas 
tering  that  should  have  been  done  this  long  time. 
I  wonder  if  you  would  have  the  time  to  do  it  for  me?  " 

It  was  not  every  one,  Bevy  Schnepp  said  proudly 
afterwards,  who  would  ride  on  horseback  to  Allen- 
town  to  fetch  a  mason's  white  suit  and  the  best  kind 
of  trowel,  but  David  had  them  ready  for  William  in 
the  morning.  William  accepted  them  eagerly  and 
began  to  work  at  once.  Presently  he  went  all  about 
Millerstown.  Sometimes  he  even  ventured  to  the 
Hartman  house  to  speak  to  David.  David  learned 
after  a  long  while  to  see  him  and  talk  to  him  without 
heartache.  One  day  William  made  in  a  whisper  an 
astonishing  confidence. 

"  People  talk  too  much  about  themselves,"  said 
William.  "  I  was  queer  once,  out  of  my  head,  but  I 
never  let  on  and  the  people  never  found  it  out." 

Thus  mercifully  was  the  past  dulled. 

By  September  Alvin  was  settled  in  his  store  in 
what  had  once  been  a  little  shoemaker's  shop  next 


KATY  GAUMER  325 

the  post-office.  Like  the  good  housewife  she  was, 
Essie  made  the  place  all  clean  and  tidy  and  ban 
ished  all  odor  of  leather.  Then  the  little  shop  was 
painted  and  Alvin 's  glass  cases  for  ties  and  collars 
and  the  low  chairs  for  the  trying  on  of  shoes  were 
put  in  place.  Millerstown  was  curious,  and  went  to 
see  and  remained  to  buy,  and  upon  them  waited 
Alvin  in  immaculate  if  sober  clothes.  Sometimes, 
alas!  when  there  was  no  danger  of  Essie's  coming 
into  the  shop,  he  wore  a  red  necktie! 

Alvin  had  paid  his  debt  to  Katy,  and  in  the  pay 
ing  had  achieved  a  moral  victory  worthy  of  a  braver 
man.  When  the  little  store  was  planned  and  the 
fittings  all  but  bought,  he  had  gone  to  David  Hart- 
man  and  had  confessed  his  debt. 

"She  helped  me,  she  was  the  only  one  who  ever 
helped  me.  She  thought  perhaps  something  could 
be  made  of  me.  And  I  could  never  pay  her  back." 

"She helped  you,"  repeated  David.  .  "You  could 
never  pay  her  back/' 

"That  was  it,"  explained  Alvin.  "When  she 
could  not  go  to  school  and  had  all  this  money,  she 
thought  somebody  should  use  it  and  she  helped  me." 

David  blinked  rapidly.  Then  he  went  to  the  safe 
and  counted  a  roll  of  money  into  Alvin 's  hand. 

"Go  pay  your  debts,  Alvin.  The  store  will  be  all 
right." 

Alvin  started  briskly  down  the  street,  but  his  step 
grew  slower  and  slower.  He  was,  to  tell  the  truth, 
desperately  afraid  of  Katy  Gaumer.  Instead  of 


326  KATY  GAUMER 

going  on  to  Grandfather  Gaumer's  he  stopped  in  at 
the  squire's,  awful  though  the  squire  always  seemed. 

"Here  is  Katy's  money,"  said  he. 

The  squire  put  out  a  prompt  hand  and  took  the 
money,  counted  it,  and  put  the  roll  into  his  pocket. 
It  was  just  as  well  for  the  development  of  Alvin's 
soul  that  it  had  not  been  offered  to  Katy,  who  might 
not  have  accepted  it. 

''Thank  you,"  said  the  squire.  "I'll  give  you  a 
receipt,  Alvin.  I  am  coming  to  your  shop  to  get  me 
a  pair  of  shoes,"  added  the  squire  with  twinkling 
eyes. 

July  changed  to  August  and  August  to  September. 
The  cock's-comb  in  Grandmother  Gaumer's  garden 

—  it  is,  to  this  day,  Grandmother  Gaumer's  garden 

—  thrust  its  orange  and  crimson  spikes  up  through 
the  low  borders  of  sweet  alyssum,  the  late  roses 
bloomed,   the  honeysuckle   put  out  its   last  and 
intensely  fragrant  sprays.     In  Millerstown  busy  life 
went  on.    Apple-butter  boiling  impended;  already 
Sarah  Ann  and  Bevy  Schnepp  saw  in  their  minds' 
eyes  a  great  kettle  suspended  from  a  tripod  at  the 
foot  of  Sarah  Ann's  yard,  from  which  should  pres 
ently  rise  into  Sarah  Ann's  apple  tree  odors  fit  to 
propitiate  the  angry  gods,  odors  compounded  of 
apples  and  grape  juice  and  spices.    Round  this 
pleasant  caldron,  with  kilted  skirts  and  loud  chatter- 
ings,  the  women  would  move  like  energetic  priest 
esses,  guarding  a  sacred  flame. 

There  came  presently  occasional  evenings  when  it 


KATY  GAUMER  327 

was  not  pleasant  to  be  out  of  doors,  when  mothers 
called  their  children  earlier  into  the  warm  kitchens 
and  when  men  gathered  in  the  store.  Fall  was  at 
hand ;  Millerstown  became  quieter  —  if,  an  unob 
servant,  unappreciative  stranger  would  have  said, 
Millerstown  could  have  become  any  quieter  than  it 
was! 

But  Millerstown  was  still  talking.  Millerstown 
was  now  interested  in  another  amazing  event.  Katy 
Gaumer  was  going  away!  The  Millerstonians  im 
parted  it,  the  one  to  the  other,  with  great  astonish 
ment. 

"She  will  have  her  education  now,"  said  Sarah 
Ann  with  satisfaction.  Then  Sarah  Ann's  eyes  filled 
with  tears.  Katy  seemed  to  her  to  belong  to  the 
past;  sometimes,  indeed,  to  Sarah  Ann's  own  gener 
ation.  "I  will  miss  Katy." 

"Going  to  school!'1  cried  little  Mary  Kuhns,  who 
was  now  Mrs.  Weimer.  "Going  to  school  when  we 
are  of  an  age  and  I  have  two  children!" 

"But  I  am  not  so  fortunate  as  you,  Mary,"  an 
swered  Katy. 

Katy  spoke  with  the  ease  of  the  preacher  or  the 
doctor;  she  seemed  older  than  all  her  contempo 
raries. 

"Going  to  school  I "  cried  Susannah  Kuhns.  "  You 
will  surely  be  an  old  maid,  Katy!" 

"There  are  worse  things  to  be,"  said  Katy. 

"Going  to  school ! "  Bevy's  outcry  was  the  loudest 
of  all.  "Now!  Are  you  crazy,  Katy?" 


328  KATY  GAUMER 

"Yes,"  laughed  Katy  as  of  old. 

"Do  you  remember  what  learning  you  had?" 

"Yes,  indeed!" 

"Pooh!  I  forget  this  long  time  everything  I 
learned  in  school.  It  was  mostly  A,  B,  C,  I  guess. 
But  there  are  better  things  than  learning.  I  can 
cook.  Was  that  why  you  went  so  often  to  the 
preacher  this  summer?  Were  you  studying  again?" 

"Exactly,"  said  Katy. 

Bevy  looked  at  her  half  in  admiration,  half  in 
disapproval.  Katy  had  reached  her  full  height;  her 
dresses  almost  touched  the  floor;  her  curly  braid  was 
coiled  on  the  top  of  her  head ;  her  eyes  had  darkened. 
But  Katy's  mouth  smiled  as  it  had  smiled  when  she 
was  a  little  girl.  Bevy  felt  dimly  that  here  was  a 
different  person  from  Mary  Weimer  with  her  babies 
and  Louisa  Kuhns,  who,  married  a  month,  came  to 
the  store  without  having  curled  her  hair. 

" But  you  ought  to  get  married  sometime,  Katy!" 
exploded  Bevy.  The  wild  dream  which  Bevy  had 
cherished  for  her  darling  had  faded.  "What  will  you 
do  in  this  world  all  alone?" 

Presently  Katy's  new  dresses  were  finished,  her 
work  with  the  preacher  was  concluded,  and  her  new 
trunk  was  sent  out  from  the  county  seat.  Edwin's 
Sally  and  little  Adam  wept  daily.  Edwin  shook  his 
head  solemnly  over  the  impending  separation. 

In  the  few  days  which  remained  before  her 
departure,  the  affairs  of  David  Hartman  and  the 
Koehlers  and  the  prospective  apple-butter  boilings 


KATY  GAUMER  329 

were  entirely  forgotten.  The  gifts  of  friends  who 
came  to  say  good-bye  would  have  filled  two  trunks, 
if  Aunt  Sally  had  not  wisely  discriminated  between 
them. 

"What  will  you  do  with  three  woolen  quilts,  Katy, 
when  I  gave  you  already  nice  blankets?  These  we 
will  put  in  a  chest  in  the  garret.  It  will  go  for  your 
Haus  Steir  [wedding  outfit]." 

Susannah  Kuhns  brought  two  jars  of  peaches  and 
a  glass  or  two  of  jelly,  being  firmly  of  the  conviction 
that  boarding-schools  and  colleges  were  especially 
constructed  for  the  starving  of  the  young. 

"The  English  people  do  not  eat  anyhow  like  we 
do.  I  was  once  to  some  English  people  in  Allentown 
and  they  had  no  spread  at  all  for  on  their  bread. 
Now  you  will  have  spreads,  Katy." 

Finally  even  Alvin  Koehler  caught  the  spirit  and 
brought  a  present  for  Katy,  a  tie  from  his  store. 
Alvin  allowed  no  cloudy  recollections  of  the  past  to 
darken  his  sunshine. 

Sarah  Ann  came,  too,  with  a  silk  quilt  and  a  silk 
sofa  pillow  of  the  "Log  Cabin"  pattern,  the  product 
of  long  saving  of  brightly  colored  scraps. 

"You  are  to  have  these  things,  Katy,"  said  she. 
"You  would  'a'  had  them  anyhow  when  I  was  gone, 
and—" 

"Now,  Sarah  Ann!"  laughed  Katy.  "That  will 
be  years  to  come,  Sarah  Ann!" 

Thus  cheered,  Sarah  Ann  dried  her  tears. 

"Everybody  in  Millers  town  is  sorry  you  are  going 


330  KATY  GAUMER 

away,"  said  she.  "You  are  like  the  church  or  the 
schoolhouse,  you  are  ours." 

"I  love  Millerstown,"  said  Katy:  "I  love  Millers- 
town  dearly." 

Presently  the  trunk  was  packed,  the  last  day  was 
at  hand.  The  squire  came  to  a  dinner  such  as 
Grandmother  Gaumer  used  to  prepare  on  holidays. 
He  was  as  excited  as  a  child  over  the  prospect  of  his 
journey  with  Katy  in  the  morning.  He  would  see 
her  established;  it  was  almost  as  though  he  were 
going  to  school  himself! 

Aunt  Sally  refused  any  help  with  the  dishes.  Katy 
must  not  work;  she  might  read,  she  might  sew,  she 
might  go  to  see  Sarah  Ann,  she  might  walk  with  little 
Adam  to  the  schoolhouse,  but  she  should  not  lay 
hand  to  dish-towel  on  her  last  day  in  Millerstown! 

Katy  chose  the  taking  of  little  Adam  to  school. 
With  his  hand  held  tight  in  hers,  she  went  out  the 
gate,  past  the  garden,  and  along  the  open  fields 
toward  the  church  and  the  schoolhouse  set  on  the 
hill  together.  She  glanced  into  the  schoolroom,  a 
dull  place  now,  no  longer  the  scene  of  the  prancings 
of  a  Belsnickel  or  the  triumphs  of  a  studious  Katy; 
then,  leaving  Adam,  she  set  off  toward  the  mountain 
road.  From  the  first  ascent  she  looked  down  at  the 
house  of  David  Hartman.  The  foliage  about  it  was 
thinning ;  she  was  near  enough  to  see  the  golden  and 
scarlet  flowers  in  the  garden  and  a  cat  sleeping  com 
fortably  on  the  wide  porch.  She  saw  David  almost 
daily,  taking  the  two  steps  into  the  squire's  office 


KATY  GAUMER  331 

at  a  bound,  sitting  in  his  father's  pew  at  church, 
riding  about  on  his  tall  gray  horse.  She  could  not 
help  hearing  Millerstown's  discussions  of  his  doings, 
of  his  generosity  to  the  Koehlers,  of  his  subscrip 
tions  to  the  church,  of  his  free-and-easy  ways. 

Presently  there  was  a  sudden  motion  on  the  Hart- 
man  porch ;  a  tall  figure  appeared,  the  cat  rose  and 
went  with  arched  back  to  meet  her  master,  a  clear 
whistle  lifted  to  the  ears  of  Katy.  She  started  and 
went  on  her  way,  angry  with  herself  for  watching. 
She  meant  to  climb  to  the  Sheep  Stable  and  sit 
there  upon  the  great  rock  and  look  down  upon  the 
valley.  There  she  could  be  alone,  there  she  could 
look  her  fill  upon  Millerstown,  there  she  could  fortify 
herself  for  the  future. 

Before  the  Koehler  house,  William  was  puttering 
about  in  the  yard.  He  called  to  her  and  gave  her 
some  flowers.  He  had  been  told  of  Katy's  part  in 
his  deliverance,  and  though  he  seemed  to  have  for 
gotten  the  specific  reason  for  his  kindly  feeling 
toward  her,  he  was  more  friendly  only  with  David 
Hartman.  He  seemed  not  so  much  to  have  lost  his 
mind  and  found  it  as  to  have  harked  back  to  his 
childhood. 

Walking  more  rapidly  after  this  delay,  Katy  went 
up  the  mountain  road.  The  afternoon  would  pass 
all  too  quickly. 

"  I  cannot  make  many  plans,"  said  Katy,  soberly, 
as  she  went  along.  "  If  I  make  plans  there  is  a  hex 
on  them.  I  must  educate  myself  for  whatever  comes. 


332  KATY  GAUMER 

It  would  be  easier  to  educate  myself  if  I  were  sure 
that  something  would  come!"  cried  Katy,  with 
sudden  passion.  "But  there  is  nothing  any  more 
before  me!" 

The  woods  thickened ;  there  was  the  chatter  of  an 
angry  squirrel,  a  flash  of  gold  as  a  flicker  floated 
downward  through  the  sunshine,  showing  the  bright 
lining  of  his  wings ;  there  was  the  rich  odor  of  ripen 
ing  nuts,  of  slippery  elm.  On  each  side  of  the  road 
and  arching  above  rose  the  flaming  trees,  the  golden 
brown  beeches,  the  yellow  hickories  and  maples,  the 
crimson  oaks.  It  was  a  beautiful,  beautiful  world, 
though  one's  heart  was  sad. 

At  the  Sheep  Stable  Katy  climbed  out  on  the 
rocky  parapet  and  sat  with  half -closed,  half -blinded 
eyes.  There  was  not  a  cloud  in  the  sky ;  all  was  clear 
and  bright.  Far  to  the  right  lay  the  county  seat;  in 
the  middle  distance  stood  the  blast  furnace,  the  smoke 
rising  lazily  from  its  chimney;  far  away  against  the 
horizon  rose  the  Blue  Ridge  with  its  three  gaps  where 
the  Lehigh  and  the  Schuylkill  and  the  Delaware 
Rivers  made  their  way  through  its  barrier  to  the 
sea. 

Directly  below  lay  Millerstown,  thickly  shaded, 
still.  Looking  upon  it,  Katy  felt  her  eyes  fill  with 
tears.  She  could  see  the  golden  light  which  the 
maples  cast  now  upon  its  streets ;  she  could  see  also 
the  blanket  of  snow  which  would  presently  cover  it, 
the  moonlight  which  would  light  it  enchantingly. 

"  But  I  will  not  be  here !  "mourned  Katy.  "  Every- 


KATY  GAUMER  333 

thing  will  go  on  in  the  same  way,  but  I  will  not  be 
here.  I  will  be  far  away  with  those  who  do  not  know 
me.  But  I  will  not  forget !"  cried  Katy.  "  I  will  not 
forget  anything.  I  will  have  Millerstown  graven  on 
my  heart !" 

Then  Katy  bent  her  head.  She  was  still  cruelly 
obsessed.  She  thought  of  David  Hartman,  of  his 
steady,  gray  eyes ;  she  thought  of  his  great  house,  of 
his  fine  mind,  of  his  great  prospects.  Katy  had 
grown  up;  remembering  now  the  affection  of  her 
youth,  she  set  her  teeth  and  wept.  Life  and  love 
were  not  devotion  to  a  pair  of  dark  eyes;  life  and 
love  meant  growth  of  one's  heart  and  soul  and  mind, 
they  meant  possessions  and  power  and  great  experi 
ences  which  she  could  not  now  define.  David  was 
them  all.  Katy  was  not  worldly  or  calculating,  she 
had  only  learned  to  understand  herself  aright. 

"I  would  like  to  talk  to  him,"  said  Katy.  "I 
would  like  him  to  know  that  I  have  some  sense  at 
last.  Then  I  could  be  more  satisfied  to  go  away." 

Then  Katy  turned  her  head  and  looked  round  at 
the  little  path  which  led  through  the  woodland  to  the 
parapeted  rock.  The  winding  mountain  road  was 
out  of  sight  from  the  Sheep  Stable;  a  person  could 
approach  close  to  the  little  plateau  without  being 
seen.  A  rustle  of  the  leaves  betrayed  a  visitor.  He 
walked  briskly,  leaping  over  rocks,  thrusting  aside 
branches  like  one  whose  mind  is  not  upon  the  way 
but  upon  the  goal.  From  the  porch  of  his  house  he 
had  seen  Katy  climbing  the  hill. 


334  KATY  GAUMER 

He  lifted  himself  to  a  seat  on  the  great  rock  beside 
Katy  and  raised  his  hand  to  shelter  his  eyes  while  he 
looked  over  the  wide  prospect. 

"It's  beautiful  up  here,  is  n't  it,  Katy?" 

Katy  caught  her  breath.  Her  chance  to  talk  had 
come ;  she  seemed  to  be  filling  her  lungs  to  make  the 
best  of  it.  "Yes,"  said  she. 

"I'm  sorry  I  frightened  you."  David  did  not 
speak  very  earnestly;  his  apology  was  perfunctory, 
as  though  he  would  just  as  soon  have  frightened  her 
as  not. 

"It 'sail  right,"  said  Katy. 

David  looked  about  the  little  plateau.  There  was 
the  little  cairn;  he  wondered,  with  amusement 
whether  he  had  taken  all  evidences  of  his  early 
wickedness  away.  Then  he  looked  smilingly  down 
upon  his  companion,  who  seemed  unable  to  make 
use  of  the  air  which  she  had  taken  into  her  lungs, 
but  sat 'silently  with  scarlet  cheeks.  The  cheeks 
flushed  now  a  still  more  brilliant  color. 

"We've  met  here  before,"  said  David,  still  smil 
ing. 

Katy  filled  her  lungs  with  air  again. 

"I  was  abominable,'"  she  confessed,  trembling. 
She  began  to  be  a  little  frightened.  Here  she  had 
laid  hands  on  David,  had  taken  sides  with  his 
enemy,  had  thrust  him  violently  down  upon  the 
ground,  had  screamed  insulting  things  at  him.  She 
had  a  cold  fear  that  he  might  be  going  to  punish  her 
for  that  miserable,  compromising  episode. 


KATY  GAUMER  335 

But  David's  tone  was  fairly  pleasant. 

"  Yes,"  he  agreed,  "you  were." 

Katy's  head  bent  a  little  lower.  She  said  to  herself 
that  all  the  education  in  the  world  would  not  remove 
the  hateful  stain  of  her  association  with  poor  Alvin. 
There  was  nothing  she  could  say,  though  she  had 
now  ample  opportunity;  all  she  could  do  would  be 
to  remove  herself  as  soon  as  possible  from  close 
proximity  to  this  tall,  gray  figure,  to  the  amused 
smile  of  these  gray  eyes.  A  moth  on  a  pin  could 
flutter  no  more  feebly  than  Katy  fluttered  inwardly. 

"I  wish  you  would  forgive  me,"  said  she,  by  way 
of  preparation  for  a  humble  departure. 

"But  I  won't,"  replied  David.  "I  won't  forgive 
you  ever." 

Katy's  heart  beat  more  and  more  rapidly.  Was 
he  really  going  to  punish  her  in  some  strange  way  ? 
Was  he  —  she  glanced  rapidly  about,  then  remem 
bered  how  firmly  that  hand  beside  her  controlled 
the  great  horse.  There  was  no  escape  unless  he  let 
her  go. 

Then,  in  spite  of  herself,  Katy  looked  up,  to 
find  David  looking  down  upon  her.  An  incredible 
notion  came  into  her  mind,  an  astounding  premoni 
tion  of  what  he  meant  to  say.  If  she  had  waited  an 
instant  David  would  have  spoken,  would  have  mas 
tered  the  overwhelming  fear  that,  after  all,  the 
hunger  of  his  heart  was  not  to  be  satisfied.  But  being 
still  Katy,  she  could  not  wait,  would  not  wait,  but 
rushed  once  more  into  speech,  broken,  tearful. 


336  KATY  GAUMER 

"  I  was  crazy  in  my  youth,"  gasped  Katy.  "  I  was 
wild.  I  cannot  understand  myself.  Perhaps  there 
are  years  when  we  are  crazy.  But  I  got  over  it.  I 
got  some  sense.  I  was  made  to  have  sense.  Trouble 
came  upon  me.  I  was  tamed.  Then  I  went  to  live 
at  your  house  and  I  read  your  books,  and  you  used 
to  come  home,  and  you  were  so  wise  and  —  and  — 
so  —  so  different  from  everybody  —  "  Did  any  one 
think  for  an  instant  that  Katy's  day  of  romance 
was  past?  —  "I  thought  it  would  kill  me  because  I 
had  been  such  a  fool  and  you  knew  it.  I  thought 
you  must  do  worse  than  hate  me,  I  thought  you 
must  despise  me.  I  thought  —  " 

David  put  out  his  arm.  With  shaking  voice  he 
laughed. 

"Oh,  foolishness!"  said  David.  He  bent  his  cheek 
upon  her  forehead.  "  I  have  loved  you  as  long  as  I 
can  remember,  Katy." 

Katy  clasped  her  hands  across  her  beating  heart, 
and  closed  her  eyes. 

" I  am  not  prepared,"  said  she  in  a  whisper.  "I 
am  not  educated!  I  am  nothing!  But,  oh!"  cried 
Katy  Gaumer  in  the  language  of  the  Sunday-School 
book,  "  If  you  will  give  me  a  little  time,  I  will  bring 
home  my  sheaves!" 

THE  END 


Bitetfibe 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
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THE  STREET  OF  SEVEN  STARS 
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